UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT    LOS  ANGELES 


C 


READINGS 

FROM 

MODERN  MEXICAN  AUTHORS 


BY 

FREDERICK   STARR 


CHICAGO 
THE  OPEN  COURT  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

London:     Kegan  Paul,  Trench,  Triisner  &  Co.,  Ltd. 
1904 


Copyrighted,  1904 

BY 

FREDERICK  STARR 
Chicago 


.PO 


THIS   LITTLE  BOOK   IS   DEDICATED 

TO 
SENOR  DON   VICTORIANO   AGÜEROS, 

AUTHOR  OF  Escritores  Mexicanos  Contemporáneos, 

EDITOR  OF  El  Tiempo  J 
PUBLISHER  OF  La  BihliotccQ  de  Autores  Mexicanos, 

FAITHFUL  FRIEND,  VALUED   HELPER. 


306201 


CONTENTS. 

Eduardo  Noriega I 

Antonio  Garcia  Cubas 15 

Joaquín  Garcia  Icazbalceta  .   ^ 26 

Agustin  Rivera 43 

Alfredo   Chavero 59 

Julio    Zarate TJ 

José  Maria  Vigil 87 

Primo  Feliciano  Velasquez 94 

Juan  F.  Molina  Solis 106 

Luis  Gonzales  Obregón 118 

Francisco    Sosa 132 

Julio    Guerrero 150 

Alejandro  Villaseñor  y  Villaseñor 168 

Rafael  Angel  de  la  Peña 181 

Ignacio  Montes  de  Oca  y  Obregón 189 

Ignacio  M.  Altamirano 204. 

Victoriano  Agüeros 216 

Manuel  Gustavo  Antonio  Revilla 228 

José  Peon  y  Contreras 243 

José  María   Roa   Barcena 259 

Justo    Sierra 275 

Victoriano  Salado  Albarez 288 

Ireneo  Paz 301 

José  López-Portillo  y  Rojas 313 

Manuel    Sánches    Mármol 334 

Porfirio  Parra 358 

Emilio  Rabasa 2>12, 

Rafael    Delgado 392 

Federico  Gamboa 405 


PREFACE. 

When  I  began  visiting  Mexico,  in  1894,  my 
knowledge  of  Mexican  authors  was  limited  to 
those  who  had  written  upon  its  archaeology  and 
ethnography.  Even  the  names  of  its  purely  liter- 
ary writers  were  unknown  to  me.  My  first  ac- 
quaintance with  these  came  from  reading  some  of 
the  writings  of  Icazbalceta,  a  critical  historian 
of  whom  any  nation  might  well  be  proud,  and  a 
man  of  literary  ability.  I  then  sought  the  books 
of  other  Mexican  authors  and  have  been  accus- 
tomed, when  in  Mexico,  to  read  only  those,  in  such 
hours  of  leisure  as  travel  and  work  have  left  me. 
This  reading  has  led  me  to  prepare  this  little  book, 
in  the  hope  that  it  may  introduce,  to  some  of  my 
countrymen,  the  literary  men  of  the  neighboring 
Republic. 

I  call  the  book  Readings  from  Modern  Mexican 
Authors;  I  might  almost  have  said  Living  Mex- 
ican Authors,  for  my  intention  has  been  to  include 
only  such.  I  have,  for  personal  reasons,  made  two 
exceptions  —  including  Icazbalceta  and  Altami- 
rano.  This  I  have  done  because  I  owe  much  to 
their  writings  and  because  both  were  living,  when 
I  first  visited  Mexico. 

V 


vi  PREFACE. 

Mexican  authors  write,  to  a  notable  degree,  for 
periodical  publications.  Many  Mexican  newspa- 
pers devote  space  to  literary  matter  and  many 
extensive  works  in  fiction,  in  history,  in  social 
science  and  political  economy  have  appeared  as 
brief  chapters  in  newspapers  and  hav^e  never  been 
reprinted,  Mexico  is  remarkably  fond,,  also,  of 
literary  journals,  most  of  which  have  a  brief  exist- 
ence. Many  of  the  writings  of  famous  Mexican 
writers  exist  only  in  one  or  other  of  these  forms  of 
fugitive  publication,  and  are  almost  inaccessible. 
The  tendency  to  republish  in  book  form  grows, 
however,  and  Señor  Agüeros  is  doing  an  excellent 
work,  with  his  Biblioteca  de  Autores  Mexicanos 
(Library  of  Mexican  Authors),  now  carried  to 
more  than  fifty  volumes,  in  which  the  collected 
works  of  good  authors,  past  and  present,  are  being 
printed. 

Of  course,  many  authors  have  been  omitted 
from  my  list,  some  of  whom  may  have  well  de- 
served inclusion;  T  have  omitted  none  for  personal 
reasons.  Specialists,  unless  they  have  written  liter- 
ary works  outside  of  their  especial  field  of  study, 
have  been  intentionally  omitted.  Men  like  Nico- 
las Leon,  Herrera,  Or\'añanos,  Belmar,  Batres, 
could  not  be  left  out  in  a  history  of  Mexican  litera- 
ture, but  their  writings  do  not  lend  themselves  to 
translation  of  brief  passages  to  represent  the  liter- 
ary spirit  of  the  country. 

It  has  not  been  easy  to  devise  a  definite  plan  of 


PREFACE.  Vil 

arrangement  for  my  selections,  but  the  matter  is 
roughly  grouped  in  the  following  order  —  Geog- 
raphy, History,  Biography,  Public  Questions,  Lit- 
erature, Drama,  Narrative,  Fiction.  One  demand, 
made  of  all  the  material,  is  that  it  shall  show 
Mexico,  Mexican  life,  Mexican  thought.  Every 
selection  is  Mexican  in  topic  and  in  color;  together 
the  selections  form  a  series  of  Mexican  pictures 
painted  by  Mexican  hands. 

I  hesitate  at  my  final  remark,  because  it  will 
sound  like  a  lame  excuse  for  failure.  It  is  not 
such.  In  these  translations  I  have  not  aimed  at  a 
finished  English  form.  I  have,  intentionally,  made 
them  extremely  literal;  I  have  sometimes  selected 
an  uncouth  English  word  if  it  exactly  translates  the 
author,  have  frequently  followed  the  Mexican  form 
and  order  of  words,  and  have  even  allowed  my 
punctuation  to  be  affected  by  the  original.  To  the 
English  critic  the  result  will  be  unpleasing,  but  to 
those  who  wish  to  know  Mexico  and  Mexican 
thought,  it  will  be  a  gain.  And  it  is  for  these  that 
my  little  book  is  written. 


The  sections  dealing  with  Icazbalceta,  Lopez- 
Portillo,  Altamirano,  Agüeros,  Roa  Barcena,  Ob- 
regón  and  Chavero,  were  originally  published  in 
Unity.  Part  of  the  matter  relative  to  Guerrero, 
has  been  printed  in  the  American  Journal  of  Soci- 
ology. 


READINGS   FROM   MODERN   MEX- 
ICAN   AUTHORS. 


EDUARDO  NORIEGA. 


I 


Eduardo  Noriega  was  born  ¡n  the  city  of  Mex- 
ico on  October  4,  1853.  He  came  of  a  notable 
family  of  Liberals,  his  father  being  General  Do- 
mingo Noriega,  and  his  brother  Carlos,  being,  at 
the  time  of  his  death,  adjutant-colonel  to  President 
Juarez.  Eduardo  was  educated  in  the  Escuela 
Nacional  Preparatoria  (National  Preparatory 
School),  where  he  spent  five  years  and  received  his 

I 


2  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

bachelor's  degree.     Since  that  time  he  has  dedi- 
cated himself  to  literary  work  and  to  teaching. 

He  has  written  both  prose  and  poetry.  Besides 
two  volumes  of  verse,  he  has  printed  a  number  of 
monologues  —  among  them  Primeros  nubes  (First 
clouds) ,  El  mejor  Diamante  (The  better  diamond) 
and  La  hija  de  la  caridad  (The  daughter  of  char- 
ity). He  has  translated  dramatic  writings  and 
has  himself  written  two  plays.  From  the  age  of 
forty  years  he  has  confined  his  teaching  and  writ- 
ing to  scientific  subjects.  He  holds  the  chair  of 
History  and  Geography  in  the  Escuela  de  Comer- 
cio y  Administración  (School  of  Commerce  and 
Administration).  He  Is  author  of  a  Geografía 
general  (General  geography),  which  has  gone 
through  two  editions,  of  a  capital  Geografía  de 
Mexico,  and  of  a  handy  Atlas  de  Mexico  miniatura 
(Miniature  atlas  of  Mexico)  which  is  In  Its  third 
edition. 

Eduardo  Noriega  Is  a  directing  member  of  the 
Sociedad  Mexicana  de  Geografía  y  Estadística 
(Mexican  Society  of  Geography  and  Statistics) 
and  many  valuable  papers  read  by  him  before 
that  body  are  printed  in  its  Bulletin. 

Our  selections  are  taken  from  his  Geografía  de 
Mexico.  ,A  school  text-book  of  geography  is 
hardly  a  promising  place  In  which  to  seek  examples 
of  literary^  value,  but  In  his  descriptions  Noriega 
often  shows  facility  in  expression  and  felicity  in 
statement. 


EDUARDO    NORIEGA.  3 

CLIMATIC   ZONES   OF  MEXICO. 

The  climatic  contrasts  occasioned  by  the  moun- 
tainous relief,  are  sharply  produced  only  in  the 
middle  portion  of  the  Republic,  that  is  to  say,  in 
the  central  mesa  and  upon  the  slopes  of  the  cor- 
dillera. The  section  from  one  coast  to  the  other, 
from  Vera  Cruz  to  Acapulco,  for  example,  is  the 
line  best  situated  for  observing  well-marked  cli- 
matic changes. 

The  low  zone  of  the  seaboard  contains,  at  once, 
the  marshes  and  the  barren  sands  of  the  coast,  the 
well-watered  open  plains,  and  the  lower  slopes, 
where  the  luxuriant  branchings  of  a  thousand  dif- 
fering trees  mingle  and  crowd,  closely  bound  to- 
gether by  festoons  of  trailing  and  pendent  vines, 
forming  lovely  masses  of  verdure,  sprinkled 
through  with  fruits  of  many  and  brilliant  colors, 
which  stand  out  conspicuously  from  the  magnifi- 
cent, chlorophyll-laden  foliage,  and  above  all  of 
which  tower  the  graceful  forms  of  palm  trees. 
To  such  a  charming  tropical  combination  is  given 
the  name  —  tierra  caliente   (hot  land). 

Within  this  range,  where  the  temperature  passes 
23°  C,  there  are  places  which  must  be  included 
among  the  hottest  on  the  globe ;  such,  for  example, 
is  the  port  of  La  Paz,  in  Lower  California.  The 
high  temperature  of  this  region,  gave  to  it  the 
name,  derived  from  the  words  calida  fornax,  which 
signify  hot  oven. 


4  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

Above  the  two  seaboard  zones,  one  sloping 
toward  the  Gulf,  the  other  toward  the  Pacific,  rises 
the  I  ierra  templada  (temperate  land),  at  an  alti- 
tude of  from  1000  m.  to  2000  m.,  but  higher  in 
the  south  than  in  the  north.  This  region  corre- 
sponds to  the  southwest  of  Europe,  not  so  much  in 
climate  —  for  it  has  no  winter  —  as  in  mean  tem- 
perature, productivity  and  salubrity. 

Lastly,  the  central  tableland,  the  part  of  the  ter- 
ritory where  the  maguey  is  cultivated  with  notable 
profit  and  every  class  of  cereals  is  produced,  con- 
stitutes the  tierra  fria  (cold  land).  It  is  the  most 
populous  part  of  the  Republic. 

In  the  high  valleys,  as  those  of  Toluca  and 
Mexico,  the  descent  of  the  mercurial  column  often 
shows  considerable  falls  of  temperature;  in  winter 
the  column  reaches  8°  or  10°  below  o  C.  and 
frosts  are  frequent.  In  general,  however,  the 
winters  are  mild.  The  mean  temperature  is  from 
13°  to  14°  C. 

In  many  places  exceptional  conditions  have 
brought  the  vegetable  areas  into  abrupt  juxtaposi- 
tion; thus,  while  upon  the  summit  of  some  ridge, 
only  plants  of  European  character  may  live  and 
flourish,  in  the  plains  surrounding  it  are  seen  palms 
and  bananas.  From  the  summit  of  the  great  vol- 
canoes, the  three  superposed  zones  may  be  clearly 
seen,  at  once. 

The  rapid  communication,  which  today  happily 
exists,  presents  to  the  traveler  the  marvelous  op- 


EDUARDO    NORIEGA.  5 

portunity  of  passing,  in  a  few  hours,  through  the 
three  distinct  regions  of  which  we  speak,  which 
in  other  parts  of  the  globe  are  separated  by  thou- 
sands of  kilometres. 

In  some  places  these  zones  remain  clearly  dis- 
tinguished from  one  another,  but  this  is  exceptional, 
since  commonly  they  crowd  upon  each  other,  min- 
gling one  with  another  by  imperceptible  transitions. 
It  is  common  to  mention  some  certain  place  as  be- 
longing to  one  and  the  other  zone,  because  the  line 
of  separation  for  both  runs  irregularly  in  moun- 
tainous regions.  A  zone  of  reciprocal  penetration 
has  been  formed,  on  account  of  the  multiple  phe- 
nomena of  temperature,  of  winds  and  of  plant 
groupings.  So,  too,  canons  and  slopes  are  met 
with,  which,  by  their  vegetation,  may  be  considered 
foci  of  tierra  caliente,  included  within  the  fully  de- 
veloped tierra  templada. 

POPOCATEPETL. 

The  valley  of  Mexico  lies,  then,  surrounded  by 
various  chains,  which  are:  to  the  north  the  Sierra 
de  Pitos  and  its  branches,  of  which  one  is  the  Sierra 
de  Guadalupe;  to  the  east  the  Sierra  de  Zinguila- 
can,  which  ends  in  an  extensiv^e  ridge,  channeled  by 
deep  furrows,  which  connect  the  Sierra  mentioned 
with  the  Sierra  Nevada.  By  means  of  mountains 
and  ridges  forming  the  Sierra  de  Xuchitepec,  to 
the   southeast  of  the   valley,   the   Sierra   Nevada 


6  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

is  connected  with  that  of  Ajusco,  which  is  con- 
nected to  the  southwest  with  that  of  Las  Cruces, 
which,  extending  to  the  northwest,  forms  the  Cor- 
dillera de  Monte  Alto,  which  is  connected,  as 
already  stated,  with  the  western  arm  of  the  Sierra 
de  los  Pitos. 

In  all  these  chains  there  are  heights  of  impor- 
tance such  as;  in  the  Sierra  Nevada,  Popocatepetl, 
lovely  volcano,  and  Ixtaccihuatl,  merely  a  snow- 
cap.  .  .  .  Popocatepetl  —  smoking  moun- 
tain —  is  the  highest  mountain  in  Mexican  terri- 
tory and  measures  5452  m.  above  sea-level.  The 
ascent  of  this  colossus  is  full  of  discomforts,  but 
when  these  have  been  endured,  the  result  is  sur- 
prising. 

The  most  suitable  road  for  the  ascent  is  the  one 
which  goes  from  Amecameca  to  the  ranch  of  Tla- 
macas,  which  is  situated  at  3897  m.  altitude  and 
almost  at  the  limit  of  tree  growth;  the  trees  there 
met  with  are  stunted;  the  day  temperature  Is  8°, 
and  at  night  o  C,  in  summer.  In  winter  these 
temperatures  are  more  extreme. 

Until  one  thousand  metres  beyond  the  ranch 
some  firs  are  seen,  which  are  the  last;  to  these  fol- 
lows a  soil  covered  with  a  dark  sand,  very  fine  and 
slippery,  over  which  the  horses  can  scarcely  make 
their  way.  Here  and  there  upon  this  sandy  zone 
are  tufts  of  dry  grass.  These  gradually  disappear, 
until,  finally,  there  remains  no  sign  of  vegetation. 
A  little  later  snow  begins,  at  a  place  called  La 


EDUARDO    NORIEGA.  7 

Cruz,  to  which  a  great  wooden  cross,  reared  upon 
a  heap  of  rocks,  gives  name.  At  this  point,  the 
line  of  perpetual  snow  is  found,  at  4300  m.,  little 
more  or  less,  above  sea-level. 

From  here  the  ascent  is  made  on  foot,  and  ever 
over  the  snow.  The  trail  zigzags,  because  the 
slope  is  24°  or  25°,  becoming  more  abrupt,  until 
reaching  30°  and  34°,  at  times.  The  walking  is, 
naturally,  very  difficult. 

When  some  hundred  metres  have  been  traversed, 
great  difficulty  in  breathing  begins  to  be  experi- 
enced, the  lungs  feel  oppressed,  and  every  step, 
every  movement  of  the  body,  causes  great  fatigue 
and  compels  the  stopping  to  take  breath.  Feeble 
constitutions  cannot  endure  the  weariness  and 
illness  which  are  experienced.  The  reflection  of 
the  sun  upon  the  snow  is  intense,  for  which 
reason  the  wearing  of  dark  glasses  is  necessary. 
The  face  should  also  be  veiled,  to  prevent  the  ver- 
tigo, which  the  white  sheet  surrounding  the  trav- 
eler produces  toward  the  middle  of  the  journey; 
when  the  day  is  fine  and  the  atmosphere  clear,  the 
panorama  is  incomparably  beautiful.  The  city  of 
Puebla  is  clearly  seen,  and,  at  a  greater  distance  the 
peak  of  Orizaba  and  the  Cofre  of  Perote.  There 
may  also  be  seen,  with  all  clearness,  the  summit  of 
Ixtaccihuatl,  totally  without  a  crater.  After  some 
four  hours  of  travel,  the  end  of  the  journey,  the 
summit  of  the  volcano  is  reached;  the  last  steps 
are  particularly  difficult,  because  the  slope  is  now 


8  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

40°  and  the  rarity  of  the  air  is  greater;  progress  is 
difficult. 

From  the  point  where  the  crater  is  reached  it  is 
not  easy  to  take  full  cognizance  of  its  depth,  though 
the  general  form  may  be  appreciated.  This  is 
elliptical;  the  major  diameter  measures  some  fifty 
metres  more  than  the  other.  A  crest  of  rock,  of 
varying  elevation,  forms  the  edge,  which  makes 
it  very  irregular;  it  is  very  narrow;  a  simple  step 
leads  from  the  outer,  to  the  inner,  slope.  This 
edge  presents  two  heights  —  one  is  the  Espinazo 
del  Diablo  (Devil's  Backbone),  the  other  is  the 
Pico  Mayor  (Greater  peak),  which  is,  as  its  name 
indicates,  the  highest  point  of  the  volcano,  being 
150  m.  higher  than  the  Espinazo.  The  Pico 
Mayor  is  almost  inaccessible,  but  its  summit  may, 
with  difficulty,  be  reached. 

The  major  diameter  of  the  crater  corresponds  to 
the  two  summits  named,  has  some  850  m.  length, 
and  its  direction  is  from  south  20°  west  to  north 
20°  east.  The  transverse  diameter  may  be  esti- 
mated at  750  m.,  which  would  give  the  crater  a 
circumference  of  2,500  m.  In  descending  from 
the  border,  the  crater  presents  three  distinct  parts; 
a  slope  of  65°,  a  vertical  wall  seventy  metres  in 
height,  and  another  slope,  which  extends  to  the 
bottom.  In  total,  the  mean  depth  of  this  imposing 
abyss  will  reach  250  m.  to  300  m. 

At  the  place,  where  the  vertical  wall  begins  and 
the  first  slope  ends,  there  has  been  set  up  a  sort  of  a 


EDUARDO    NORIEGA.  9 

windlass,  below  which  an  enormous  beam  slopes 
downward  toward  the  abyss;  by  this  beam,  and 
lowered  by  a  cord,  the  workmen  who  extract  sul- 
phur descend. 

In  the  bottom  of  the  crater  are  four  fumaroles, 
whence  vapors  escape,  which  in  issuing  produce 
slight  hissing  sounds.  Abundant  deposits  of  sul- 
phur exist  near  these.  Besides  the  fumaroles  men- 
tioned, there  are  seven  points  at  the  borders  of  the 
crater,  where  gases  escape,  though  in  less  abun- 
dance; six  of  these  points  lie  to  the  east  of  the  major 
diameter,  and  the  seventh  on  the  opposite  side. 
All  are  inaccessible. 

The  interior  of  the  crater  is  formed  by  sheets, 
which  form  a  regular  wall  with  vertical  sides.  In 
some  places  these  layers  are  profoundly  shattered 
and  there  various  species  of  rocks,  of  notably  dif- 
ferent natures  are  seen ;  first,  below,  are  sheets  of 
trachyte,  very  compact  and  rich  in  crystals  of  stri- 
ated feldspar  and  partly  decomposed  amphibole; 
above  these  more  or  less  regular  trachytic  layers 
are  beds  of  well-characterized  basalt  —  also  very 
compact  and  rich  in  peridote;  lastly,  above  these 
layers  are  porous  scoria?,  of  dark  purple  color, 
which  indicates  the  presence  of  a  considerable  quan- 
tity of  iron  oxide.  These  scoria^  must  have  origi- 
nated from  the  fusion  of  the  porphyritic  rocks. 

Every  little  while,  at  the  summit,  rage  violent 
storms  of  snow,  which  falls  in  thick  sheets;  at  such 
times  the  atmospheric  clouds  do  not  permit  objects 


lO  MODERN   MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

to  be  seen  at  a  metre's  distance  and  the  temperature 
falls  to  20°  and  22°  below  o  C. 

The  exploitation  of  the  sulphur  is  insignificant 
since  only  some  forty-eight  or  fifty  tons  are  taken 
out,  in  a  year;  this  sulphur  is  distilled  at  the  ranch 
of  Tlamacas;  it  is  sold  in  Mexico  and  Puebla  at  the 
same  price  as  that  of  Sicily  —  that  of  Popocatepetl 
being  superior  in  quality.  The  snow,  too,  on  the 
side  of  Ozumba,  is  exploited,  but  this  exploitation 
is  on  the  smallest  scale. 

Various  expeditions  have  been  organized  for  the 
ascent  of  Popocatepetl,  some  scientific  in  nature, 
others  for  amusement.  The  first  was  made  in 
15 19  by  Diego  de  Ordaz,  one  of  the  soldiers 
of  Cortes;  others  followed.  In  our  own  day,  such 
expeditions  are  frequent  and  their  results  happily 
verify  each  other. 

Ixtaccihuatl, — "  white  woman  " — connected  to 
Popocatepetl  by  a  ridge  of  graceful  outline,  rises  to 
5,288  m.  altitude  above  sea-level.  Down  the 
slopes  of  this  mountain,  several  torrents,  derived 
from  the  melting  snows,  pour  and  form  cascades 
and  falls  up  to  forty-five  metres  in  height.  These 
same  slopes,  covered  by  a  sheet  of  astonishingly 
rich  and  luxuriant  vegetation  are  gashed  by  deep 
crevices,  in  which  are  enormous  masses  of  porphy- 
ritic  and  basaltic  rocks.  Conifers  form  dense  for- 
ests up  to  3,000  m.  altitude;  from  there  the  vigor 
of  arborescent  vegetation  diminishes  and  at  4,000 
m.  it  completely  ceases;  from  that  point  on  there 


EDUARDO   NORIEGA.  II 

are  only  stretches  of  brambles,  which  completely 
disappear  at  about  4,200  m. ;  then  follow  the  sands, 
and,  lastly,  the  perpetual  snows,  which  begin  at 
4,300  m. 

The  crest,  which  is  very  grand  and  beautiful, 
resembles  in  the  arrangement  of  its  rock  masses, 
the  form  of  a  woman's  body,  stretched  at  length 
upon  its  back,  and  covered  by  a  white  winding 
sheet.  From  this,  the  name  of  white  woman, — 
izta,  white;  cihuatl,  woman  —  with  which  this 
lovely  mountain  was  baptized  by  the  dreamy  imag- 
ination of  the  Aztecs. 

THE  CAVERN  OF  CACAHUAMILPA. 

In  the  limestone  mountains  of  Cacahuamilpa, 
thirty  kilometres  north  from  Tasco,  in  a  ravine,  lies 
the  village  of  the  same  name,  near  which  is  situated 
the  famous  cavern,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  in  the 
world,  commonly  designated  by  the  name  of 
the  gruta  de  Cacahuamilpa  (grotto  of  Cacahua- 
milpa). .  .  .  Dominating  the  eminence 
formed  in  the  cordillera  running  eastward  and 
which  has  already  been  mentioned,  is  perceived  the 
great  mouth  of  the  cavern,  with  the  green  festoons 
of  foliage  which  adorn  it  and  some  stalactitic  for- 
mations which  seem  to  announce  the  marvels  of  the 
interior.  Access  to  this  entrance  is  gained  by  a 
short  and  narrow  path. 

The  mouth  measures  five  metres  in  its  greatest 


12  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

height  and  thirty-six  metres  from  side  to  side;  after 
it  has  been  traversed,  there  begins  a  plane  sloping 
toward  the  interior;  the  soil  is  sandy;  shortly  one 
arrives  at  the  first  gallery,  which  is  lighted  by  the 
sunlight. 

This  gallery  is  very  large;  its  walls  are  formed 
of  enormous  masses  of  tilted  rocks,  which  look  as  if 
about  to  fall;  the  spacious  and  lofty  vault  is  fur- 
rowed by  broad  and  deep  crevices  and  from  it  hang 
many  stalactites  in  the  form  of  columns,  or  colossal 
pear-shaped  masses  of  marble.  Crossing  the 
broad  space  of  this  gallery,  a  second  is  reached, 
where  the  darkness  is  dense  and  appalling,  the 
torches  scarcely  dispel  the  gloom,  and  the  spirit  is 
oppressed. 

In  the  first  gallery  the  most  notable  concretions 
are  "  the  enchanted  goat "  and  "  the  columns." 
The  former  has  lost  much  of  its  resemblance,  as  the 
head  of  the  goat  has  fallen,  but  the  second  is  won- 
derfully beautiful,  because  of  its  astonishing  origi- 
nality; its  form  is  that  of  a  column  adorned  with  a 
capital.  In  the  form  of  a  tuft  of  plumes,  which 
supports  the  base  of  a  natural  arch. 

The  third  gallery,  called  "  the  pulpit  "  on  ac- 
count of  the  shape  of  its  principal  concretion  is  no 
less  beautiful,  grand,  and  Imposing,  than  the  pre- 
ceding.    Here  the  darkness  is  absolute. 

Beyond  this  third  gallery  there  are  twelve  more, 
very  Imperfectly  known;  they  are  called  —  the 
cauliflower,  the  shell,  the  candelabrum,  the  gothic 


EDUARDO    NORIEGA.  1 3 

tower,  the  palm  tree,  the  pineapple,  the  labyrinth, 
the  fountain,  and  the  organ-pipes.  The  rest  have 
no  special  names.  All  of  these  galleries  are  mar- 
velously  beautiful;  all  are  extensive  and  have  lofty 
vaultings. 

The  total  extent  of  the  cavern  is  unknown; 
though  the  guides  assert  that  it  ends  in  the  gallery 
of  the  organ-pipes,  there  are  indications  that  the 
statement  is  false.  These  indications  are :  the  air, 
which,  even  at  such  profound  depths,  is  perfectly 
respirable;  the  lack  of  exploration;  the  supersti- 
tious fears  of  the  guides  to  go  further;  and,  some 
traditions,  which  declare  that  new  galleries  exist 
and  have  been  explored  by  persons,  who  report  a 
rushing  torrent  producing  a  terrible  noise,  for 
which  reason  no  one  cares  to  penetrate  further. 
But,  although  the  extent  of  the  cavern  is  unknown 
and  the  gallery  of  the  organ-pipes  may  not  be  the 
last,  we  ought  not  to  believe  the  reports,  which  give 
the  cavern  immense  extension.  For  example, 
some  say  that  the  galleries  and  ramifications  extend 
to  the  mountains  of  Tasco,  and  there  is  one  tradi- 
tion, which  affirms  that  the  cavern  prolongs  itself, 
through  the  interior  of  the  mountains  which  limit 
the  Valley  of  Mexico  on  the  south,  until  it  unites 
with  the  cavern  of  Teutli,  near  Milpa  Alta. 

This  tradition,  although  improbable,  is  curious; 
it  states  that  some  families  hid  their  treasure  in  the 
cave  which  occurs  in  the  mountain  of  Teutli;  this 
has  a  very  narrow  entrance  at  first,  but  after  some 


14  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

twelve  or  fifteen  metres  broadens,  forming  a  most 
beautiful  cavern;  this  cavern  has  a  series  of  cham- 
bers, of  greater  or  lesser  size,  which  finally  com- 
municate with  the  cave  of  Cacahuamilpa,  more 
than  one  hundred  kilometres  distant. 

The  tradition  cited  adds  that  but  few  persons 
have  dared  to  penetrate  the  cave  of  Teutli,  and  on 
but  one  occasion,  a  herd  of  sheep  having  entered  it, 
some  peons  followed  to  collect  and  bring  them 
out  —  a  thing  they  could  not  do  because  the  ani- 
mals penetrated  far  into  the  cave;  those  who  went 
in  pursuit  of  them  returned  after  two  days  of  jour- 
neying through  these  rough  passages. 

In  conclusion,  it  only  remains  to  state,  that  the 
existence  of  the  cavern  of  Cacahuamilpa  remained 
unknown  to  everyone,  until  the  year  1833.  Be- 
fore that  year,  not  even  the  Indians  had  entered  it, 
because  they  believed  that  the  stalagmite  in  the 
form  of  a  goat  was  a  bad  spirit,  that  guarded 
the  mysteries,  which  the  cavern  enclosed;  but  a 
criminal  who  took  refuge  in  it  and  was  there  dur- 
ing the  period  of  his  pursuit,  after  which  he  re- 
turned to  his  home,  astonished  the  inhabitants 
of  Tetecala  by  his  fantastic  reports;  they  made  the 
first  exploration  and  announced  their  expedition, 
describing  the  wonderful  cavern.  Since  then,  until 
now,  expeditions  have  not  lacked;  unhappily,  none 
of  them  has  been  scientific. 


ANTONIO   GARCIA   CUBAS. 


IS 


ANTONIO  GARCIA  CUBAS. 


Antonio  García  Cubas  was  born  July  24,  1832, 
in  the  City  of  Mexico.  He  began  study  looking 
toward  engineering  in  the  year  1845,  although  not 
actually  taking  the  degree  of  engineer  until  1865. 
His  technical  studies  were  pursued  in  the  Colegio 
de  San  Gregorio,  the  Minería  (School  of  Mines), 
and  the  Academia  de  San  Carlos.  His  studies 
were  repeatedly  internipted  by  appointments  of 
importance  and  by  public  commissions.     Thus,  in 


1 6  MODERN   MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

1853  h^  published  a  general  map  of  the  Mexican 
Republic.  Since  that  date  he  has  done  much  geo- 
graphical and  engineering  work  of  importance. 
In  1865,  he  served  on  the  Scientific  Commission  of 
Pachuca.  In  1866  he  did  the  leveling  for  the 
Mexican  Railway  to  Tulancingo.  He  published 
his  first  Atlas  in  1857;  in  1863,  his  Carta  ^^eneral 
(General  map),  in  1876  his  Carta  administrativa 
(Administrative  map),  in  1878,  his  Carta  oro- 
hydrographica  (Orographic-hydrographic  map), 
still  perhaps  the  best  maps  of  Mexico,  of  their  kind. 
In  1882,  his  great  Atlas,  geográfico,  estadistico,  y 
pintoresco  de  la  República  Mexicana  (Geograph- 
ical, Statistical,  and  Picturesque  Atlas  of  the  Mex- 
ican Republic)  was  published.  In  addition  to 
these  and  other  equally  important  scientific  works, 
Señor  Garcia  Cubas  has  written  various  school 
books  in  geography,  history,  etc.  Our  selections 
are  taken  from  a  little  volume,  Escritos  diversos 
( Miscellaneous  Writings) . 

The  work  of  Señor  García  Cubas  has  received 
wide  and  well-deserved  recognition.  He  is  a 
member  of  the  Geographical  Societies  of  Paris, 
Lisbon,  Madrid  and  Rome;  he  has  received  scores 
of  medals  and  diplomas;  he  holds  the  Cross  of  the 
Legion  of  Honor.  In  his  own  country  he  is  a 
member  of  all  the  scientific  societies  but  has  nat- 
urally been  m.ost  Interested  in  the  Sociedad  Mex- 
icana de  Geografía  y  Estadística  (The  Mexican 
Society   of  Geography   and   Statistics).     He   has 


ANTONIO   GARCIA    CUBAS.  1 7 

ever  been  active  in  movements  for  public  advance- 
ment and  among  many  results  of  his  interest  we 
may  mention  the  Conservatory  of  Music. 

THE  INDIANS  OF  MEXICO. 

The  statistical  data,  imperfect  though  they  have 
been,  have  given  force  and  value  to  the  opinion, 
which  for  me  is  a  fact,  that  the  indigenous  race 
becomes  debilitated  and  decreases  in  proportion 
as  the  white  race  becomes  strong  and  advances. 
This  fact  is  in  complete  accord  with  the  laws  of 
nature;  the  disadvantage  of  the  indigenous  race 
consists,  for  its  decrease,  in  its  customs  and  in  the 
hygienic  conditioiis  of  its  mode  of  life.  A  miser- 
able hut  serves  as  a  habitation  for  a  numerous 
family  and  in  it,  the  inmates  actually  packed  to- 
gether, cannot  but  breathe  a  polluted  air;  food  is 
scanty  and  innutritious,  while  the  daily  occupations 
are  heavy  and  hard.  Sad  indeed  is  the  sight  of 
these  unhappy  indigenes  who  without  distinction 
of  sex  and  age  are  encountered  in  our  city  streets 
and  who,  exhausted  under  the  weight  of  enormous 
burdens,  return  to  their  villages  with  the  miserable 
pittance  gained  from  their  trading. 

If  we  consider  the  Indian  from  the  time  ol  his 
birth,  or  even  from  before  his  birth,  we  see  his  life 
to  be  but  a  series  of  miseries  and  abjections.  The 
Indian  women,  even  at  the  time  of  travail,  do  not 
cease    from   their   wearisome   tasks   and,    without 


I  8  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

thought  for  the  being  who  stirs  within  them,  oc- 
cupy themselves  in  grinding  maize  and  making 
tortillas,  labors  which  cannot  but  prove  hurtful  to 
the  act  of  giving  birth.  While  the  period  of  suck- 
ling has  not  passed,  the  child  is  fed  with  tortillas 
and  fruits  and  other  foods  unsuited  to  its  digestive 
powers,  causing  by  such  imprudence  diarrhoeas  and 
other  diseases,  which  carry  the  children  to  the 
grave  or,  as  they  grow,  leaves  them  infirm  and 
feeble.  Smallpox,  in  consequence  of  the  neglect 
of  the  parents  and  their  indifference  to  vaccination, 
causes  frightful  ravages  —  the  disease  being  most 
pernicious  in  the  Indigenous  race. 

Such  statistics  as  I  possess  of  the  movement  of 
population  in  the  pueblo  of  Ixtacalco,  while  they 
indicate  that  the  Civil  Registry  has  not  yet  extended 
its  dominion  to  that  pueblo,  corroborate  the  opin- 
ion that  the  decrease  of  the  race  is  mainly  due  to 
infant  mortality. 

In  1868  there  were  born 165 

There  died 190 

Loss 25 

In  this  mortality  there  were  one  hundred  and 
forty  children.  In  the  year  1869,  although  the 
data  show  an  augmentation  of  fifty-nine  persons 
In  the  population,  the  Infant  deaths  number  sixty- 
five,  to  thirty-four  of  adults. 

One  fact  ought  to  particularly  call  our  attention 
because  it  proves  that  the  degradation  of  the  race 


ANTONIO   GARCIA   CUBAS.  1 9 

is  not  in  its  constitution  but  in  the  customs  of  its 
members.  The  Indian  women  of  the  villages 
near  the  Capital,  hiring  themselves  out  as  nurses 
in  private  homes,  rear  healthful  and  robust  chil- 
dren, because  in  their  new  employment  they  im- 
prove their  condition,  by  enforced  cleanliness,  by 
good  food,  and  by  the  total  change  in  their  hy- 
gienic conditions.  But  this  very  circumstance  is  a 
serious  misfortune  for  the  race,  the  women  im- 
pelled by  the  desire  to  gain  better  wages,  abandon- 
ing their  own  children  to  the  mercenary  cares  of 
other  women,  as  if  the  lack  of  a  mother's  love  and 
care  could  be  made  good ! 

Another  of  the  reasons  which,  in  my  opinion, 
cause  the  degeneration  of  the  indigenous  race,  is 
that  marriage  takes  place  unwisely  and  prema- 
turely. According  to  medical  opinion,  the  nubile 
age  of  woman  in  our  country  is  eighteen  years,  in 
the  hot  lands  fourteen;  between  medical  theory 
and  actual  practice  there  Is  an  enormous  difference. 
As  regards  the  Indians,  frequently  union  occurs 
between  a  woman  scarcely  arrived  at  the  term  of 
her  development  and  a  man  of  forty  years  or  more, 
entirely  developed  and  robust;  as  a  consequence, 
the  woman  becomes  debilitated  and  infirm  and  her 
children  are  weak  and  degenerate. 

If  to  these  causes,  which  operate  so  powerfully 
toward  the  decrease  of  the  indigenous  race,  is 
added  the  sensible  diminution  it  has  suffered  in  our 
civil  wars, —  since  the  indigenous  race  supplies  far 


20  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

the  larger  part  of  the  army  —  the  truth  of  my  as- 
sertion seems  fully  corroborated. 

THE  SEASONS  IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  MEXICO. 

Few  must  be  the  places  in  the  world  which,  from 
the  picturesque  and  poetical  point  of  view,  surpass 
in  beauty  the  Valley  of  Mexico.  The  varied  phe- 
nomena, which  the  seasons  of  the  year  there  pre- 
sent, powerfully  contribute  to  this. 

Some  European  savants  assert  that  the  seasons 
of  the  year  are,  in  the  intertropical  regions,  reduced 
to  two,  the  dry  and  rainy  seasons.  In  our  country 
this  assertion  is  without  foundation.  The  truth  is, 
that,  in  those  regions,  weather  variations  less  sharp- 
ly determine  seasonal  changes  than  in  the  temperate 
zones;  but,  in  the  Valley  of  Mexico  seasonal 
changes  really  take  place  as  shown  by  the  beautiful 
fresh  mornings  of  its  Spring,  prodigal  in  exquisite 
and  varied  flowers;  the  hot  days  of  its  rainy  Sum- 
mer, rich  in  delicious  fruits;  the  warm  afternoons 
of  Autumn  with  its  wondrously  beautiful  drifting 
clouds,  and  the  cold  nights  of  Winter,  with  its 
clear  and  starry  sky. 

As  the  last  hours  of  night  shorten  in  the  lovely 
season  of  Spring,  the  deep  darkness  which  envel- 
opes the  earth's  surface  dissipates  little  by  little  and 
objects  become  visible  as  the  delicate  light  of  dawn 
gradually  invades  the  east.  The  sun's  rays,  prop- 
agating  themselves    with    a    constant   undulatory 


ANTONIO   GARCÍA   CUBAS.  11 

movement,  cause  successive  reflections  and  refrac- 
tions, in  the  atmosphere  and  clouds,  scattering  the 
light  in  every  direction  and  permitting  the  distin- 
guishing of  objects  not  yet  directly  illuminated  by 
that  body.  If  this  light,  known  by  the  name  of 
diffused  or  scattered  light,  did  not  exist,  the  shadow 
cast  by  a  cloud,  or  by  any  object  whatever,  would 
produce  the  darkness  of  night,  and  —  there  being 
no  twilight  — ■  the  sun  would  appear  on  the  horizon 
suddenly  and  in  full  splendor. 

The  sweet  trills  of  the  goldfinch,  the  warbling 
of  other  birds,  the  harmonious  sound  of  bells, 
which  announce  in  the  towns  the  hour  of  dawn,  and 
the  laborer,  who  betakes  himself  to  the  field,  with 
his  oxen,  to  begin  his  daily  labors,  mark  the  mo- 
ments in  which  the  splendid  rays  of  the  sun,  which 
precede  the  rising  of  the  luminary,  diffuse  them- 
selves through  the  transparent  fluid  of  the  atmos- 
phere. Before  the  sun  mounts  above  the  horizon 
the  eastern  heavens  are  successively  colored  with 
the  brilliant  tints  of  red,  orange,  yellow,  green,  and 
purple;  the  limit  of  the  white  light  of  dawn,  ex- 
tending in  the  form  of  an  arch  through  space,  rap- 
idly advances  toward  the  zenith,  while,  at  the  same 
time,  the  upper  heavens  about  that  point,  gradually 
acquire  the  most  intense  hue  of  azure. 

The  crest  of  the  eastern  cordillera  sharpens  and 
defines  itself  against  a  background  of  rose  and 
gold ;  the  majestic  snow  caps  of  Popocatepetl  and 
Iztaccihuatl,  which  rise  as  two  colossi  in  order  to 


22  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

display  the  beauties  of  the  sunrise,  feebly  illumi- 
nated on  their  western  flanks  by  the  diffused  light, 
appear  as  if  made  of  Bohemian  crystal.  At  times 
a  dense  column  of  smoke,  rendered  visible  by  the 
whiteness  of  dawn,  issues  from  the  crater  of  Popo- 
catepetl, demonstrating  the  constant  activity  of  this 
volcano,  which  retains  evidences  of  tremendous 
activity. 

When  the  sun,  rising  above  the  horizon,  pursues 
its  upward  march,  it  presents  a  beautiful  spectacle, 
difficult  of  description.  Its  disc,  red  and  appar- 
ently increased  in  size,  on  account  of  atmospheric 
refraction,  presents  itself  surrounded  by  a  luminous 
aureole,  and  gradually  diminishes  in  diameter  as  it 
mounts  higher.  The  antecrepuscular  curvee  sub- 
merged in  the  horizon,  the  west  acquires  the  same 
succession  of  tints  and  the  upper  part  of  the  sky  is 
colored  with  a  brilliant,  most  vivid  blue. 

From  that  moment  the  surroundings  of  the  Cap- 
ital city  are  most  charming.  Chapultepec,  with  its 
many  and  limpid  springs,  its  picturesque  rock  mass, 
its  poetic  palace  and  its  dense  grove  of  ancient  cy- 
presses, from  the  branches  of  which  depend  masses 
of  gray  moss  —  the  honored  locks  of  their  hoary 
age;  Tacubaya  with  its  palaces,  Its  parks,  and  gar- 
dens; MIxcoac  with  its  pleasing  environs  and  its 
lanes  of  fruit  trees;  San  Angel,  Coyoacan,  and 
Tlalpam,  with  their  clear  brooks,  their  gardens, 
their  fields,  and  their  pretty  glades,  covered  with 
plants,  trees,  and  interlacing  climbers. 


ANTONIO   GARCIA    CUBAS.  23 

In  all  these  places  one  enjoys  the  intoxicating 
freshness  of  the  morning,  the  attractiveness  of  the 
fields,  the  breathing  of  the  fresh  air  loaded  with 
the  perfume  of  flowers.  There  swarms  of  butter- 
flies, with  gleaming  and  brilliant  wings,  display 
their  beauties  and  humming-birds,  those  precious 
winged  gems  which,  endowed  with  an  extraordi- 
nary flight,  cleave  the  air  like  an  exhalation,  or, 
suclcing  honey  from  some  flower,  suspended  in 
space,  incessantly  beat  their  wings  and  expose  the 
green  and  pearly  lustre  of  their  plumage  to  the 
reflections  of  the  sun. 

South  of  the  capital,  the  soil  differs  from  that  of 
the  places  mentioned.  There  the  camelia,  the  lily, 
the  Bengal-rose,  and  the  other  exquisite  flowers  of 
careful  cultivation  are  not  met;  but  there,  in  the 
chinampas,  those  artificial  islands  which  have  con- 
verted swamps  into  lovely  gardens,  grow  the  lux- 
uriant poppy,  the  purple  pink,  the  elegant  dahlia, 
the  perfumed  violet,  and  the  fragrant  rose  of  Cas- 
tile. 

The  canal  which  unites  the  lakes  of  Texcoco  and 
Xochimilco  in  the  days  of  Spring  is  to  be  seen  cov- 
ered with  canoes  loaded  with  flowers  and  vegeta- 
bles bound  for  the  city  markets;  and  everyone,  who 
has  participated  in  the  Lenten  festivities  of  the 
Viga,  will  ever  remember,  with  delight,  the  anima- 
tion that  constantly  reigns  in  that  place,  where  the 
common  people  finds  its  greatest  joy.     It  may  be 


24  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

said  that  there  is  the  place  of  the  festival  of  Spring 
and  flowers. 


Summer,  in  the  Valley,  as  the  other  seasons  of 
the  year,  has  its  especial  attractiveness. 

The  atmospheric  strata  being  unequally  ex- 
panded by  the  fierce  heat  from  the  earth's  surface, 
the  order  or  arrangement  of  the  layers  in  contact 
with  the  soil  is,  so  to  say.  Inverted.  It  is  well 
known  that  the  lower  layers  of  air  have  the  greater 
density,  from  the  fact  that  the  upper  layers  weigh 
down  upon  them ;  from  the  earth's  surface  upward 
there  is  a  gradual  decrease  in  density  until  the  last, 
the  lightest  and  most  subtle,  which  is  called  ether. 
This  general  law  being  interfered  with  by  the  ex- 
pansion of  the  lower  layers,  refraction  of  the  light 
rays, —  or  the  deviation  which  they  suffer  in  pass- 
ing from  one  medium  into  another  of  differing 
density  —  takes  place  in  a  manner  contrary  to  that 
when  the  atmospheric  layers  are  normally  super- 
posed, and  the  mirage*  Is  produced,  an  optical 
Illusion,  which  causes  us  to  see  objects,  below  the 
horizon  or  In  the  air.  Inverted. 

In  the  dry  and  level  stretches  In  the  north  of  the 
Valley,  one  frequently  sees  the  thick  vapor  stretch 
itself  out  over  the  surface  of  the  ground,  and  upon 
it,  Inverted,  are  portrayed  the  mountains  with  all 

*  The  word  used  is  esf'ejismo,  literally,  mirroring. 


ANTONIO   GARCIA   CUBAS.  2$ 

their  irregularities  and  details,  as  if  reproduced  in 
a  limpid  mirror  of  waters. 

The  mirage  is  yet  more  interesting,  more  won- 
derful, in  the  Lake  of  Texcoco,  though  the  phe- 
nomenon is  there  less  frequent.  On  clear  days, 
from  the  shore,  one  sees  the  full  extent  of  the  lake 
and  the  tranquillity  of  its  water.  Miserable,  frail, 
canoes,  the  form  of  which  has  not  varied  since  the 
days  of  the  conquest,  are  seen  crossing  the  lake, 
loaded  with  grains  and  vegetables  for  the  Mexican 
markets.  The  unsteady  and  narrow  chalupas  of 
the  fishermen  and  flower-dealers  rapidly  cleave 
the  watery  surface  and  only  the  creaking  of  the 
oars,  or  the  notes  of  the  monotonous  songs  of  the 
boatmen  break  the  silence  of  the  solitude. 

When  the  temperature  of  the  water  of  the  lake 
is  less  than  that  of  the  air  with  which  it  Is  In  con- 
tact, those  little  crafts  suddenly  disappear  from  the 
surface  of  the  water  and  are  seen,  inverted,  floating 
in  the  air,  coursing  to  the  stroke  of  the  oars, 
through  a  shifting  sea  of  clouds. 


26 


MODERN   MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 


JOAQUIN  GARCÍA  ICAZBALCETA. 


No  name  better  deserves  to  be  first  mentioned 
in  the  list  of  modern  Mexican  writers  than  that  of 
Joaquin  Garcia  Icazbalceta.  He  was  bom  in  the 
City  of  Mexico  Aug.  25,  1825.  His  father  was  a 
Spaniard,  his  mother  a  Mexican.  On  account  of 
the  disorders  connected  with  the  Revolution,  his 
parents  left  Mexico,  going  first  to  the  United 
States  and  later  to  Spain,  where  they  remained 
until  1836.      In  that  year  they  returned  to  Mexico. 


JOAQUIN    GARCIA    ICAZBALCETA.  27 

The  boy  showed  early  earnestness  ¡n  study  and  was 
well  instnicted  by  private  tutors.  He  was  ac- 
quainted with  and  encouraged  by  the  great  his- 
torian, Lucas  Alaman,  who  no  doubt  had  much  to 
do  with  his  decision,  about  1846,  to  devote  himself 
to  historical  study. 

The  list  of  his  works  is  a  long  one.  He  trans- 
lated Prescott's  Conquest  of  Peru  into  Spanish  and 
enriched  it  with  valuable  notes.  To  the  well 
known  Diccionario  Universal  dc  Historia  y  Geo- 
grafía (Universal  Dictionary  of  History  and  Geog- 
raphy) he  contributed  the  biographical  sketches  of 
many  personages  of  the  sixteenth  century.  In 
1858  he  began  publishing  the  Colección  de  Docu- 
mentos para  la  Historia  de  México  (Collection  of 
Documents  for  the  History  of  Mexico),  two  vol- 
umes of  ancient,  and  for  the  most  part  unknown, 
matter  of  the  highest  value.  This  was  continued 
by  the  publication  in  1870  of  Mendieta's  Historia 
Ecclesiastica  Indiana  (Ecclesiastical  History  of  the 
Indians).  Still  later  in  1 886-1 892  these  vol- 
umes were  followed  by  four  similar  volumes  under 
the  name  Nueva  Colección  de  Documentos  para  la 
Historia  de  México  (New  Collection  of  Docu- 
ments for  the  History  of  Mexico).  These  papers 
were  all  original  works,  many  of  them  from  the 
sixteenth  century,  of  the  greatest  importance  and 
interest,  and  most,  if  not  all,  of  them  would  have 
been  lost  or  never  known  but  for  Icazbalceta's 
care.     In  publishing  this  matter  our  author  always 


28  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

added  notes  and  explanations,  characterized  by 
lucidity,  interest,  and  learning.  Two  important 
works  were  published  in  1875  and  1877 — Mex- 
ico en  1554  (Mexico  in  1554)  and  Coloquios  es- 
pirituales y  sacramentales  y  Poesias  sagradas  (Spir- 
itual and  Sacramental  Colloquies  and  Sacred 
Poems).  The  former  was  a  reprint  of  three  in- 
teresting dialogues  in  Latin  by  Francisco  Cervantes 
Salazar;  the  book  is  most  rare;  Icazbalceta  printed 
the  original  Latin  text  with  a  Spanish  translation 
and  added  his  usual  valuable  notes.  The  other 
book,  chiefly  composed  of  religious  dramas  for 
popular  representation,  was  by  Fernán  Gonzales 
de  Eslava,  who  was  by  no  means  a  mean  poet.  In 
reprinting  this  curious  sixteenth  century  book  Icaz- 
balceta practically  traced  the  whole  history  of  the 
religious  play  in  Mexico  of  the  past.  No  Mexican 
bibliographer  has  done  more  important  work  than 
Icazbalceta.  Two  works  in  this  line  need  special 
mention.  His  Apuntes  para  un  Catalogo  de  Escri- 
tores en  lenguas  indígenas  de  America  (Notes  for 
a  Catalogue  of  Writers  in  the  Native  Languages 
of  America)  Is  not  only  interesting  in  itself,  but 
has  been  the  necessary  foundation  for  everything 
since  written  regarding  Mexican  languages.  As 
for  his  Bibliografía  Mexicana  del  siglo  xz'i.  ( Mexi- 
can Bibliography  of  the  Sixteenth  Century),  it  is 
a  wonderful  work,  representing  forty  years  of 
labor.  "  It  is  a  systematic  catalogue  of  books 
printed  in  Mexico  in  the  years  between  1539  and 


JOAQUIN    GARCIA    ICAZBALCETA.  29 

1600,  with  biographies  of  authors  and  various 
illustrations,  facsimiles  of  ancient  title  pages,  ex- 
tracts from  rare  books,  bibliographic  notes,  etc, 
etc."  It  is  far  more  —  it  is  really  a  restoration  of 
the  life  of  that  wonderful  age  in  American  letters. 
In  biography  our  author  is  eminently  happy;  he 
usually  loves  and  reverences  his  subject.  In  1881 
he  published  his  Don  Fray  Juan  de  Zumárra^^a, 
Primer  Obispo  y  Arzobispo  de  México  (Friar  Juan 
de  Zumarraga,  first  bishop  and  archbishop  of  Mex- 
ico). It  is  a  magnificent  example  of  such  work. 
Another  subject  of  his  love  was  Alegre,  and  be- 
sides a  biography  of  him  he  wrote — 1889  — 
Opúsculos  inéditos  Latinos  y  Castellanos  de  Fran- 
cisco Javier  Alegre  (The  Unpublished  Works, 
Latin  and  Spanish,  of  Francisco  Javier  Alegre). 
Icazbalceta's  last  great  work  was  Diccionario  de 
Provincialismos  Mexicanos  (Dictionary  of  Mexi- 
can Provincialisms).  This  was  passing  through 
the  press  at  the  time  of  his  death,  November  26, 
1894. 

Many  of  Icazbalceta's  choicest  writings  were 
monographs  of  no  great  length  prepared  for  read- 
ing before  the  Mexican  Academy  or  other  organi- 
zations of  which  he  was  a  member.  These  always 
show  the  same  careful  gathering  of  facts,  the  same 
just  criticism,  and  the  same  literary  character  as  his 
greater  works.  Our  selections  —  all  but  one  — 
are  from  such  a  discourse  read  before  the  academy 
in  June   and  July,    1882,   entitled,   El  instrucción 


30  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

publica  en  México  durante  el  siglo  xvi.  (Public 
Instruction  in  Mexico  during  the  Sixteenth  Cen- 
tury). The  other  is  from  a  paper  —  Los  Medi- 
cos de  México  en  el  siglo  xvi.  (The  Physicians  of 
Mexico  in  the  Sixteenth  Century) .  These  passages 
will  no  doubt  surprise  many  readers,  who  have  been 
pleased  to  believe  that  Spain's  policy  was  to  hold 
its  conquered  territories  in  deep  ignorance. 

THE  EARLY  MISSIONARIES. 

When  the  first  Spanish  missionaries  arrived, 
they  faced  that  great  mass  of  uncivilized  folk, 
which  it  was  necessary  to  convert  and  civilize  in 
a  single  day.  Today  there  exist  an  enormous 
number  of  establishments  and  private  teachers  for 
educating  youth  in  classes,  graded  with  relation  to 
ages;  there  were  then  twelve  men  for  millions  of 
children  and  adults,  who  begged,  in  concert,  for 
light,  and  light  which  it  was  impossible  to  deny 
them,  because  it  was  not  merely  a  matter  of  human 
culture,  which  most  important  as  it  is,  did  not  then 
occupy  the  first  place;  but  of  opening  the  eyes  to 
blind  heathen  and  of  making  them  take  the  straight 
road  for  attaining  the  salvation  of  their  souls. 
The  matter  then  seemed  serious;  it  was  really  still 
more  so,  because  the  new  teachers  had  never  heard 
the  language  of  their  pupils.  But  what  may  not 
devotion  accomplish?  Those  venerable  men 
quickly  mastered  the  unknown  language  and  then 


JOAQUIN    GARCIA    ICAZBALCETA.  3 1 

Others  and  others  as  they  met  them;  they  under- 
stood, or  rather  they  divined,  the  peculiar  charac- 
ter of  the  population,  and  at  once  converted,  in- 
structed, and  protected  it.  The  first  missionaries 
and  those  who  followed  after  them,  were  certainly 
no  common  men;  almost  all  were  educated;  many 
like  Feathers  Tecto,  Gaona,  Focher,  Vera  Cruz,  and 
others  had  shone  ¡n  professorships  and  prelacies; 
they  were  of  noble  birth,  and  three  of  them. 
Fathers  Gante,  Witte,  and  Daciano,  felt  royal 
blood  coursing  through  their  veins.  All  renounced 
the  advantages  promised  by  a  brilliant  career;  all 
forgot  their  hard  gained  learning  to  devote  them- 
selves to  the  primary  instruction  of  the  poor  and 
unprotected  Indians.  What  inflated  doctor,  what 
betitled  professor  today  would  accept  a  primary 
school  in  an  obscure  village? 

The  Franciscans  went  ev^erywhere  rearing  tem- 
ples to  the  true  God,  and  with  them  schools  for 
children.  They  gave  to  their  principal  convents 
a  special  plan;  the  church  set  from  east  to  west  and 
the  school,  with  its  dormitories  and  chapel  at  right 
angles  to  it,  stretching  to  the  north.  The  square 
of  buildings  was  completed  by  the  ample  court, 
which  served  for  teaching  the  Christian  doctrine  to 
adults,  in  the  morning  before  work,  and  also  for 
the  sons  of  the  macehiiales  or  plebeians  who  came 
to  receive  religious  instruction;  the  school  building 
was  reserved  for  the  sons  of  nobles  and  lords; 
although  this  distinction  was  not  rigidly  observed. 


32  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

At  first  the  friars  found  great  difficulty  in  gather- 
ing together  boys  to  fill  these  schools,  because  the 
Indians  were  not  yet  capable  of  understanding  the 
importance  of  the  new  discipline  and  refused  to 
give  their  boys  to  the  monasteries.  They  had  to 
appeal  to  the  government  that  it  should  compel  the 
lords  and  principal  men  to  send  their  sons  to  the 
schools;  first  experiment  in  compulsor)'  education. 
Many  of  the  lords,  not  caring  to  give  up  their 
children,  but  not  daring  to  disobey,  adopted  the 
expedient  of  sending,  in  place  of  their  own  sons, 
and  as  if  they  were  these,  other  boys,  sons  of  their 
servants  or  vassals.  But  in  time,  perceiving  the 
advantage  these  plebeian  boys,  by  education,  were 
gaining  over  their  masters,  they  sent  their  sons  to 
the  monasteries,  and  even  insisted  on  their  being 
admitted.  The  boys  dwelt  in  the  lodgings  built 
for  the  purpose  in  connection  with  the  schools, 
some  so  spacious  as  to  suffice  for  eight  hundred 
or  a  thousand.  The  friars  devoted  themselves  by 
preference  to  the  children,  as  being — from  their 
youth  —  more  docile  and  apt  to  learn,  and  found 
in  them  most  useful  helpers.  Soon  they  employed 
them  as  teachers.  The  adults  brought  from  their 
wards  by  their  leaders,  came  to  the  patios  and  re- 
mained there  during  the  hours  set  for  instruction, 
after  which  they  were  free  for  their  ordinary  occu- 
pations. Divided  into  groups,  one  of  the  best 
instructed  boys  taught  to  each  group  the  lesson 
learned  from  the  missionary. 


JOAQUIN    GARCIA    ICAZBALCETA.  33 

PEDRO  DE  gante' S  WORK. 

Although  you  know  the  fact  well,  gentlemen, 
you  would  not  forgive  me  should  I  omit  mention- 
ing the  work  which  the  noted  lay  brother,  Pedro 
de  Gante,  blood  relative  of  the  Emperor  Charles 
v.,  did  in  the  direction  of  instnicting  the  Indians, 
He  was  not  the  founder  of  the  College  of  San  Juan 
de  Letran,  as  is  generally  stated,  but  of  the  great 
school  of  San  Francisco,  in  Mexico,  w^hich  he  di- 
rected during  a  half  century.  This  was  con- 
structed, as  was  customary,  behind  the  convent 
church,  extending  toward  the  north,  and  contigu- 
ous to  the  famous  chapel  of  San  José  de  Bclem 
de  Naturales  —  the  first  church  of  Mexico,  the  old 
cathedral  included.  There  our  lay  brother 
brought  together  fully  a  thousand  boys,  to  whom 
he  imparted  religious  and  civil  instruction.  Later 
he  added  the  study  of  Latin,  of  music,  and  of  sing- 
ing, by  which  means  he  did  a  great  service  to  the 
clergy,  because  from  there  went  forth  musicians 
and  singers  for  all  the  churches.  Not  satisfied  with 
this  achievement,  he  brought  together  also  adults, 
with  whom  he  established  an  industrial  school. 
He  provided  the  churches  with  painted  or  sculp- 
tured figures;  with  embroidered  ornaments,  some- 
times with  designs  interspersed  of  the  feather  work, 
in  which  the  Indians  were  so  distinguished;  with 
crosses,  with  candlestick  standards,  and  many  other 
objects  necessary  for  church  service,  no  less  than 


34  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

with  workmen  for  the  construction  of  the  churches 
themselves,  for  he  had  in  that  school  painters,  sculp- 
tors, engravers,  stonecutters,  carpenters,  embroid- 
erers, tailors,  shoemakers,  and  other  trades  work- 
ers. He  attended  to  all  and  was  master  of  all. 
l^he  gigantic  efforts  of  that  immortal  lay  brother 
cause  genuine  admiration  —  who  without  other  re- 
sources than  his  indomitable  energy,  born  of  his 
warm  charity,  reared  from  the  foundations  and 
sustained  for  so  many  years  a  magnificent  church, 
a  hospital  and  a  great  establishment,  which  was  at 
once  a  primary  school,  a  college  of  higher  instruc- 
tion and  religious  teaching,  an  academy  of  the  fine 
arts,  and  a  trades  school,  in  fine  a  center  of  civiliza- 
tion. 

INSTRUCTION   BY    HIEROGLYPHS. 

Industrial  schools,  compulsory  education,  these 
seem  to  us  usually  modern  ideas;  but  these  old 
teachers  knew  something  of  object  teaching,  of 
adapting  methods  to  varying  conditions.     Thus : 

They  completed  the  instruction  by  the  use  of 
signs,  and  it  may  be  imagined  that  the  result  was 
little  or  nothing.  Desirous  of  hastening  the  in- 
struction and  realizing  that  what  enters  by  the  eye 
engraves  itself  more  easily  upon  the  mind,  they 
devised  the  idea  of  painting  the  mysteries  of  re- 
ligion upon  a  canvas.  Friar  Jacob  de  Tastera,  a 
Frenchman,  w^as  the  first,  it  seems,  who  tested  this 
method.     He  did  not  know  the  language,  but  he 


JOAQUÍN   GARCÍA    ICAZBALCETA.  35 

showed  the  Indians  the  chart  and  caused  one  of 
the  brighter  among  them,  who  knew  something  of 
Spanish,  to  explain  the  meaning  of  the  figures  to 
the  others.  The  other  friars  followed  his  example 
and  the  system  continued  in  use  much  time.  They 
were  also  accustomed  to  hang  the  necessary  charts 
upon  the  wall,  and  the  missionary,  as  he  made  the 
doctrinal  explanations,  indicated  with  a  pointer  the 
corresponding  chart.  The  Indians  accustomed  to 
painting  heiroglyphs  adopted  them  for  writing 
catechisms  and  prayerbooks  for  their  own  use,  but 
varying  the  old  form  and  interspersing  here  and 
there  words  written  with  European  letters,  from 
which  there  resulted  a  new  species  of  mixed  writ- 
ing, of  which  curious  examples  are  preserved,  some 
of  which  are  in  my  possession.  They  made  use  of 
the  same  method  of  jotting  down  a  record  of  their 
sins  that  they  might  not  forget  them  at  the  time 
of  going  to  the  confessional.  The  use  of  the  pic- 
tures was  so  pleasing  to  the  Indians  that  it  lasted  all 
that  century  and  a  part  of  the  following.  In  1575 
Archbishop  Moya  de  Contreras  substituted  with 
announcements  in  pictures,  papal  bulls  which  failed 
to  come  from  Spain;  and  the  well  known  French 
writer,  Friar  Juan  Bautista,  caused  figures  to  be 
engraved  7 — after  the  seventeenth  century  had  be- 
gun —  for  use  in  teaching  the  Indians  of  that  time 
the  doctrine. 


36  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

THE    UNIVERSITY   OF   MEXICO. 

The  famous  University  of  Mexico  was  opened 
in  1553,  almost  seventy  years  before  the  pilgrims 
landed  at  Plymouth  Rock.  Literary  contests  of  a 
public  character  were  not  infrequent: 

The  doors  of  the  university  opened,  there  en- 
tered by  them  a  great  number  of  youth,  who 
waited  with  impatience  the  moment  of  commenc- 
ing or  prosecuting  their  studies.  So  Cervantes 
Salazer  testifies  in  the  description  which  he  wrote 
of  the  institution,  the  year  following  its  establish- 
ment. Soon  the  literary  exercises  began  and  not- 
able was  the  ardor  with  which  the  students  engaged 
in  scholastic  disputations,  to  which,  as  Cervantes 
says,  night  alone  put  an  end.  The  learned  men 
who  were  already  in  Mexico  hastened  to  connect 
themselves  with  the  university,  among  them  Arch- 
bishop Montufar.  Nothing  was  omitted  to  add 
to  the  luster  of  the  new  school,  since  there  were 
given  to  it  the  privileges  of  the  University  of  Sala- 
manca and  the  title  Royal  and  Pontifical.  From 
it  sallied  many  alumni  as  teachers,  or  to  occupy 
high  positions  in  church  and  state.  It  was  really, 
as  its  founders  had  planned,  a  source  of  supply 
(nursery)  of  educated  men,  which  in  large  meas- 
ure obviated  the  necessity  of  bringing  such  from 
Europe,  and  there  were  even  some  who  there  bril- 
liantly displayed  the  education  which  they  had  re- 
ceived in  the  schools  of  Mexico. 


JOAQUIN   GARCÍA   ICAZBALCETA.  37 

A    LITERARY    FESTIVAL. 

In  the  year  1578,  on  the  occasion  of  the  arrival 
at  Mexico  of  a  great  quantity  of  sacred  relics,  pre- 
sented by  Pope  Gregory  XIII.  to  the  Jesuits,  it  was 
decided  to  celebrate  a  brilliant  festival.  Upon  the 
announcement  of  this,  many  distinguished  persons 
and  a  multitude  of  others  betook  themselves  to 
Mexico.  An  official  proclamation,  given  forth  be- 
forehand with  much  ceremony,  announced  a  pro- 
gram of  seven  literary  controversies.  The  pro- 
cession with  the  sacred  relics  sallied  from  the  cathe- 
dral, and  on  the  way  to  the  Church  of  the  Jesuits, 
where  they  were  to  be  deposited,  there  were  reared 
five  magnificent  triumphal  arches  '  at  least  fifty 
feet  high.'  Besides  these  more  important  ones, 
the  Indians  constructed  more  than  fifty,  made  of 
boughs  and  flowers  according  to  their  custom.  All 
the  doors  and  windows  of  the  houses  were  adorned 
with  rich  tapestries,  Flemish  stuffs  embroidered 
with  gold  and  silk.  In  the  arches,  as  at  the  cor- 
ners, and  in  the  little  ornamental  shrines  which 
decorated  the  line  of  march,  there  were  displayed 
placards  and  shields  with  inscriptions,  sentences, 
and  poetical  verses  in  Latin,  Spanish,  and  even  in 
Greek  and  Hebrew.  At  each  arch  the  procession 
paused  to  see  and  hear  dances,  sports,  music,  and 
poems.  During  the  space  of  eight  days,  in  the 
afternoons,  upon  platforms  erected  for  the  pur- 
pose, the  students  of  the  different  schools  in  turn 

3Ü6ÍÍ01 


38  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

represented  religious  plays.  One  of  these  was 
the  tragedy  of  the  persecution  of  the  church  under 
Diocletian  and  the  prosperity  which  followed,  with 
the  reign  of  Constantine.  This  drama,  which  still 
exists  in  printed  form,  was  undoubtedly  a  work  of 
the  Jesuit  professors.  Delighted  with  its  rendition 
the  populace  demanded  its  repetition,  which  took 
place  the  following  Sunday. 

INDIAN    LANGUAGES. 

An  immense  field  is  opened  before  my  view,  in 
the  linguistic  and  historic  works,  which  we  owe  to 
the  sixteenth  century.  On  their  arrival  the  mis- 
sionaries found  themselves  face  to  face  with  a  lan- 
guage entirely  unknown  to  the  inhabitants  of  the 
Old  World;  and  as  they  progressed  with  their 
apostolic  labors  they  discovered  with  pain  that  this 
land,  where  the  curse  of  Babel  seems  to  have  fallen 
with  especial  weight,  was  full  of  different  lan- 
guages, of  all  forms  and  structures,  some  polished, 
others  barbarous,  for  which  they  had  neither  inter- 
preters, nor  teachers,  nor  books,  and  for  the  most 
part  not  even  a  people  of  culture  who  spoke  them. 
That  difficulty  in  itself  would  suffice  to  discourage 
the  most  intrepid  mind;  but  there  did  not  in  the 
world  exist  anything  which  could  quench  the  fire  of 
charity  with  which  the  missionaries  were  aglow. 
They  undertook  the  contest  with  the  hundred- 
headed  monster  and  vanquished  him.     Today  the 


JOAQUIN   GARCIA    ICAZBALCETA.  39 

Study  of  a  group  of  languages,  or  even  of  one 
tongue,  raises  the  fame  of  the  philologist  to  the 
clouds,  although  he  usually  finds  the  way  pathed 
out  for  him  by  previous  labors;  but  the  missionaries 
learned,  or  rather  divined  all,  from  the  first  begin- 
nings; a  single  man  at  times  attacked  five  or  six 
of  these  languages  without  analogy,  without  a  com- 
mon filiation,  without  known  alphabet,  with  noth- 
ing that  might  facilitate  the  task.  Today  such  in- 
vestigations are  made,  for  the  most  part,  in  the 
tranquillity  and  shelter  of  the  study;  then,  in  the 
fields,  the  groves,  upon  the  roads,  under  the  open 
sky,  in  the  midst  of  fatigues  of  the  mission  journey, 
of  hunger,  of  lack  of  clothing,  of  sleeplessness. 

The  missionaries  did  not  undertake  such  heavy 
tasks  to  attain  fame;  they  did  not  compare  the  lan- 
guages, nor  treat  them  in  a  scientific  way;  they  tried 
to  reduce  them  all  to  the  plan  of  Latin;  but  they 
went  straight  to  the  practical  end  of  making  them- 
selves comprehensible  to  the  natives,  and  laid 
firm  foundations,  upon  which  might  be  reared  a 
magnificent  structure.  The  linguistic  section  of 
our  literature  is  one  of  those  which  most  highly 
honor  it,  and  this,  although  we  know  but  a  portion 
of  it.  Countless  are  the  writings  which  have  re- 
mained unpublished,  either  for  lack  of  patronage 
to  supply  the  cost  of  printing  or  because  they  were 
translations  of  sacred  texts  which  it  was  not  per- 
mitted to  place  in  vulgar  hands.  Father  Olmos  is 
a  notable  example  of  the  sad   fate  which  befell 


40  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

many  of  these  writers.  It  is  believed  that  he  knew 
various  Chichimecan  dialects,  because  he  was  a 
long  time  among  them,  and  it  is  certain  that  he 
wrote  without  counting  other  books,  grammars,  and 
vocabularies  of  the  Aztec,  Huastec,  and  Totonac 
languages.  Of  such  great  works  only  his  Aztec 
grammar  has  survived,  which,  after  circulating 
during  more  than  three  centuries  through  public 
and  private  hbraries,  has  finally  been  saved,  thanks 
to  the  beautiful  edition  of  it  which  was  published, 
not  in  Mexico,  but  in  Paris  in  1875.  In  a  history 
of  Mexican  literature,  notices  and  analysis  of  the 
books  on  the  native  languages  —  today  so  much 
esteemed  and  studied  in  foreign  lands  —  claim  a 
place  of  honor. 

FRANCISCO    HERNANDEZ. 

That  same  year,  about  the  month  of  Septem- 
ber, the  famous  Dr.  Francisco  Hernandez,  court 
physician  of  Philip  II.,  arrived  in  Mexico.  He 
was  a  native  of  Toledo  and  was  born  about  11;  17 
or  1 5 18.  Nothing  is  known  of  his  life  previous 
to  his  journey  to  New  Spain,  whither  he  came  by 
royal  commission,  to  write  the  natural  histor}'  of 
the  country,  with  reference  to  medicine.  He  con- 
sumed seven  years  in  the  discharge  of  his  commis- 
sion, making  continual  journeys,  meeting  obstacles 
and  suffering  diseases  which  brought  him  to  the 
edge  of  the  grave.     It  has  been  generally  said  that 


JOAQUIN   GARCÍA    ICAZBALCETA.  4 1 

Philip  II.  supplied  the  expenses  of  this  expedition 
with  regal  munificence  and  that  it  cost  him  20,000 
ducats;  but  documents  published  in  our  days,  clearly 
show  that  Hernandez  was  given  but  a  modest  sal- 
arys  although  we  do  not  know  exactly  the  amount, 
with  no  assistance  whatever  for  his  extraordinary 
expenses,  not  even  for  those  occasioned  by  his  fre- 
quent journeys.  Nor  was  he  supplied  the  assist- 
ance usual  in  such  cases,  and  he  had  no  other  helper 
than  his  own  son.  In  spite  of  all  this  he  was  never 
discouraged  in  that  great  enterprise.  In  order  to 
devote  himself  entirely  to  it,  he  refused  to  prac- 
tice medicine  in  Mexico,  '  throwing  away  the  op- 
portunity of  gaining  more  than  20,000  pesos  by  the 
practice  of  the  healing  art,  and  much  more  by 
occupations  pursued  in  this  country,  on  account  of 
employing  myself  in  the  service  of  your  majesty 
and  in  the  consummation  of  the  work  '  —  as  he 
himself  says  in  a  letter  to  the  king.  Not  content 
with  describing  and  making  drawings  of  the  plants 
and  animals  of  New  Spain  he  caused  the  efficacy 
of  the  medicines  to  be  practically  tested  in  the  hos- 
pitals, and  availing  himself  of  his  title  of  proto- 
medico,  convoked  the  practitioners  then  in  the  city 
and  urged  them  to  make  similar  tests  and  to  com- 
municate the  results  to  him.  F^inally  he  carried  to 
Spain,  1577,  seventeen  volumes  of  text  and  illus- 
trations, in  which  was  the  natural  history;  and  an 
additional  volume  containing  various  writings  upon 
the  customs  and  antiquities  of  the  Indians.     Copies 


42  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

of  all  were  left  ¡n  Mexico,  which  have  disappeared. 
He  wrote  the  work  in  Latin;  he  translated  a  part 
of  it  into  Spanish,  and  the  Indians,  under  his  direc- 
tion, commenced  a  translation  into  Aztec. 

Arrived  in  Spain,  Hernandez  suffered  the  se- 
verest blow  possible  for  an  author  —  instead  of  his 
great  work  being  put  promptly  to  press,  as  he  had 
expected,  it  was  burled  in  the  shelves  of  the  library 
of  the  Escorial;  to  be  sure  with  all  honor,  for  the 
volumes  were  '  beautifully  bound  in  blue  leather 
and  gilded  and  supplied  with  silver  clasps  and  cor- 
ners, heavy  and  excellently  worked.'  However, 
this  magnificent  dress  did  not  serve  to  protect  the 
work,  which  finally  perished,  almost  a  century  later, 
in  the  great  conflagration  of  the  Escorial,  which 
took  place  the  7th  and  8th  of  June,  1671,  nothing 
being  saved  except  a  few  drawings,  just  enough  to 
augment  our  appreciation  of  the  loss.  Dr.  Her- 
nandez survived  his  return  little  more  than  nine 
years,  since  he  died  February  28,  1587. 


AGUSTÍN   RIVERA. 


43 


AGUSTÍN   RIVERA. 


Agustín  Rivera  was  born  at  Lagos  (Jalisco) 
on  February  28,  1824.  For  a  time  he  studied  at 
and  famous  Colegio  de  San  Nicolas,  at  Morelia, 
and,  later,  at  the  Seminario  in  Guadalajara.  In 
1848  he  was  licensed  to  practice  law  and  in  the 
same  year  took  holy  orders.  He  taught  for  some 
time  at  Guadalajara,  and  was,  for  nine  years,  the 
attorney  of  the  Ecclesiastical  Curia,  lie  finally 
removed  to  Lagos,  the  city  of  his  birth,  where  ho 
still  lives,  and  where  his  writings  have  been  pub- 


44  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

lished.  In  1867,  he  made  a  journey  to  Europe, 
visiting  England,  France,  Italy,  and  Russia.  His 
writings  have  been  many,  varied,  and  extensive; 
the  complete  list  of  his  books  and  pamphlets,  in- 
cludes ninety-four  titles.  Among  the  best  known 
and  most  widely  mentioned  are  his  Compendio  de 
la  Historia  antigua  de  Mexico  (Compend  of  the 
Ancient  History  of  Mexico),  Principios  criticos 
sobre  el  vireinato  de  la  Nueva  España  (Critical 
Observations  upon  the  Vice-Royalty  of  New 
Spain),  and  La  Filosofía  en  Nueva  España  (Phi- 
losophy in  New  Spain).  Two  pamphlets,  Fiaje 
á  las  Ruinas  de  Chicomoztoc  (Journey  to  the 
Ruins  of  Chicomoztoc)  and  Viaje  á  las  Ruinas  del 
Fuerte  del  Sombrero  (Journey  to  the  Ruins  of  the 
Fort  of  Sombrero) ,  have  been  widely  read  and  are 
often  mentioned. 

Our  author  is  vigorous  and  clear  in  thought  and 
expression.  Extremely  liberal  in  his  views,  much 
of  his  writing  has  been  polemic.  In  argument  he 
is  shrewd  and  incisive;  In  criticism,  candid  but  un- 
sparing. His  Principios  criticos  is  a  scathing  ar- 
raignment of  the  government  of  New  Spain  under 
the  viceroys.  His  Filosofía  is  a  part  of  the  same 
discussion.  It  forms  a  large  octav'O  volume.  It 
begins  with  presenting  two  Latin  documents  of 
the  eighteenth  century,  programs  of  public  actos, 
given  at  the  Seminario  and  the  Colegio  de  Santo 
Tomás  in  Guadalajara,  These  serve  as  the  basis 
for  a  severe  criticism  of  the  philosophical  thought 


AGUSTÍN   RIVERA.  45 

and  teaching  in  Spain  and  New  Spain  during  the 
vice-regal  period.  Testimonies  are  cited  from 
many  authors  and  Rivera's  comments  upon  and 
inferences  from  these  are  strong  and  original.  In 
the  course  of  the  book  he  summarizes  the  scientific 
work  really  done  —  and  there  was  some  —  in 
Mexico  during  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  cen- 
turies. He  sums  up  his  argument  in  eleven  corol- 
laries. Our  selections  are  taken  from  the  Filosofía 
en  Nueva  España  and  from  a  curious  dialogue  re- 
garding the  teaching  of  Indian  languages. 

On  February  28,  1902,  after  many  years  of 
absence,  Agustín  Rivera  was  in  Guadalajara;  his 
completion  of  seventy-eight  years  of  life  was  there 
celebrated  by  a  large  circle  of  his  friends,  old  stu- 
dents, admirers,  and  readers,  most  brilliantly.  In 
October,  1901,  a  proposition,  that  the  national 
government  should  pension  the  faithful  and  fear- 
less old  man,  was  unanimously  carried  by  the  one 
hundred  and  twenty-five  votes  in  the  House  of 
Deputies  In  the  City  of  Mexico.  It  Is  pleasant  to 
see  these  acts  of  public  recognition  of  the  value 
of  a  long  life  usefully  spent. 

BACKWARDNESS  OF  MEXICO  IN  VICEROYAL  TIMES. 

My  lack  of  pecuniary  resources  does  not  allow 
me  to  give  greater  bulk  to  this  book  by  translat- 
ing Document  I.  from  Latin  into  Spanlsli;  but 
those  who  know  the  Latin  language  and  philosophy 


46  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

will  observe  that  In  the  Department  of  Physics  in 
the  College  of  Santo  Tomás  in  Guadalajara  were 
taught  the  first  cause,  the  properties  of  secondary 
causes,  supernatural  operations,  the  sacrament  of 
the  Lord's  Supper,  eternity  —  everything,  in  fact, 
save  physics.  Neither  the  word  heat,  nor  the 
word  light,  is  met  with  once  in  the  program.  The 
program  cited,  further  accentuates  ignorance  of 
modern  logic  and  modern  metaphysics.  Such  was 
the  teaching  of  philosophy  by  the  Jesuits  in  the 
schools  of  New  Spain,  until  the  end  of  their  instruc- 
tion and  existence  in  this  country,  since  the  public 
acta,  in  the  College  of  Santo  Tomás,  took  place  in 
1764,  and  three  years  later  they  were  expelled 
(June  25,  1767).  History  proves  that  the  Jesuits 
were  at  the  front  In  teaching  In  the  colleges  of 
New  Spain,  and  if  they  taught  such  things,  what 
could  those  teach  who  were  in  the  rear? 

Lucas  Alaman,  Adolfo  Llanos,  Niceto  de  Zama- 
cois,  Ignacio  Aguilar  y  Marocho,  and  other  writers, 
open  partisans  of  the  colonial  government  (few 
indeed  in  this  nineteenth  century)  to  such  docu- 
ments as  form  the  matter  of  this  Dissertation  reply : 
"  It  was  the  logic,  the  metaphysics  and  the  physics 
of  that  epoch,"  The  statement  Is  false  and  one 
might  say  that  the  writers  mentioned  were  Ignorant 
of  history,  or  that,  knowing  it,  they  made  sport  of 
the  credulity  and  good  faith  of  their  readers,  were 
it  not  that  the  intelligence  and  honestv  of  the  four 
writers  —  and  of  others  —  is  well  established,  and 


AGUSTÍN   RIVERA.  47 

did  not  logic  teach  us  that  there  are  other  sources 
of  error  in  judgment  besides  ignorance  and  bad 
faith;  that  a  great  source  of  errors  is  preoccupa- 
tion, as  that  of  Alaman  and  Agullar  Marocho  — • 
for  all  that  concerns  the  monarchy  and  viceroyalty; 
and  a  great  source  of  errors  is  passion,  vehement 
and  uncontrolled,  as  the  love  of  country  which 
sways  Zamacois,  Llanos,  and  other  Spanish  writ- 
ers. .  .  .  The  statement  is  false,  I  repeat, 
and,  in  consequence,  the  conclusion  is  nul :  nulla 
solutio.     I  shall  prove  it. 

The  discovery  of  the  New  World,  the  origin  of 
the  Americans  and  their  magnificent  ruins  and  an- 
tiquities, scattered  over  the  whole  country;  the 
Aztec  civilization,  grand  in  a  material  way;  their 
human  sacrifices,  which  in  fundamental  meaning 
involved  a  great  genesiac  thought  and  in  applica- 
tion were  a  horrible  fanaticism;  the  Conquest  of 
Mexico,  in  which  present  themselves:  —  Hernán 
Cortes,  the  first  warrior  of  modern  times,  though 
with  indelible  stains;  Pedro  de  Alvarado,  Gonzalo 
de  Sandoval,  Cristobal  de  Olid,  and  Diego  de 
Ordaz,  with  their  feats  of  heroism  and  their 
crimes;  Cuauhtemotzin,  Xicotencatl,  Cacamotzin, 
and  the  other  Indian  warriors  with  their  immortal 
patriotism;  the  interesting  figure  of  Marina;  Bar- 
tolomé de  Olmedo,  Pedro  de  Gante,  Bartolomé  de 
las  Casas,  Juan  de  Zumárraga,  Toribio  de  Moto- 
linia,  Bernardino  de  Sahagun,  and  the  other  mis- 
sionaries surrounded  by  an  aureole  of  light  which 


48  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

brings  posterity  to  its  knees;  all  the  conjunct  of  the 
Conquest,  as  the  finest  subject  for  an  epic  poem; 
"  the  Laws  of  the  Indies,"  the  encomiendas,  the 
Inquisition ;  Antonio  Mendoza,  the  venerable  Pala- 
fox.  Fray  Payo  Enriquez  de  Rivera,  the  Duke  of 
Linares,  Revilla  Gigedo  the  second,  and  other  ex- 
cellent viceroys;  the  fecund  events  of  1808;  the 
Revolution  of  the  Independence,  the  first  and  sec- 
ond empires,  and  many  other  events  in  the  history 
of  Mexico  during  its  five  epochs,  have  already  been 
treated  and  ventilated  in  many  books,  pamphlets 
and  journals  —  some  sufficiently,  others  overmuch. 
Poetry  in  New  Spain  has  been  magnificently  treated 
by  my  respected  friend,  the  learned  Francisco 
Pimentel,  in  Volume  I.  of  his  Historia  de  la  Litera- 
tura y  de  las  Ciencias  en  Mexico.  But  Philosophy 
in  New  Spain  is  a  subject  that  has  not  been  speci- 
fically treated  by  ony  one.  This  work  has,  per- 
haps, no  other  merit  than  novelty,  which  would  be 
worth  nothing  without  truth,  supported  by  good 
testimonies.  As  regards  Spain  I  shall  take  my 
testimonies  from  no  foreign  authors  —  lest  the 
bourbonlst  writers  might  reject  them  as  disaffected 
and  prejudiced,  and  so  shield  themselves  —  but 
from  Spanish  writers;  with  the  exception  of  one 
and  another  Mexican,  accepted  by  all  Spaniards  as 
trustworthy,  such  as  Álzate  and  Berlstaln.  .  .  . 
And  among  Spaniards  I  will  refrain  from  citing 
Emilio  Castelar  and  others  of  the  extreme  left. 


AGUSTÍN    RIVERA.  49 

DISTRIBUTION  OF  OFFICES  IX   NEW  SPAIN. 

With  regard  to  the  public  offices  in  New  Spain, 
of  consequence  for  the  honor  connected  with  them, 
or  because  of  the  fat  salary.  Señor  Zamacois 
says: 

"  It  has  been  said,  in  regard  to  official  positions, 
that  the  Mexicans  filled  only  the  less  important;  in 
this,  another  error  has  been  committed.  The  mon- 
archs  of  Castilla  considered  those  born  in  the 
American  colonies  as  Spaniards,  and  made  ;/o  dis- 
tinction between  them  and  Peninsulars;  all  had 
equal  rights  and,  therefore,  in  making  an  appoint- 
ment, there  was  no  question  whether  the  person 
named  came  from  the  provinces  of  America  or 
those  of  the  Peninsula.  .  .  .  The  offices  and 
appointments  were  conferred  in  equal  numbers  on 
the  sons  of  America  and  Peninsulars." 

By  way  of  digression,  I  may  present  a  few  pen- 
strokes,  but  they  will  be  sufficient  for  any  intelli- 
gent man.  Padre  Mariana,  high  authority  in  his- 
tory, states  this  maxim  :  History  takes  no  sides  until 
shoivn  a  clean  record.  Señor  Zamacois  shows  no 
clean  record  for  his  assertions.  I  will  present 
mine.  There  were  sixty-two  Viceroys  of  Mexico, 
and  of  these  fifty-nine  were  Spaniards  of  the  Penin- 
sula and  three  were  creóles  —  Luiz  de  Velasco, 
native  of  the  City  of  Mexico,  Juan  de  Acuña, 
native  of  Lima,  and  Revilla  Gigedo  the  second, 
native  of  Havana;  in  consequence,  only  one  was 


5 o  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

Mexican.  There  were  thirty-three  Bishops  of 
Guadalajara  and  of  these  twenty-six  were  Span- 
ish Peninsulars  and  seven  were  creóles;  these  were 
;  that  is  to  say,  only  five  were  Mexicans. 
I  confess  my  ignorance;  I  do  not  understand  Señor 
Zamacois's  arithmetic  —  the  equality  between 
26  and  7.  There  were  thirty- four  Bishops  of 
Michoacan,  and  of  these  there  were  thirty  Spanish 
Peninsulars  and  four  creóles;  these  were  .  .  .  ; 
that  is  to  say,  only  two  were  Mexicans.  Thirty 
equals  four?  Please,  Señor  Zamacois.  There 
were  thirty-one  Archbishops  of  Mexico,  of  whom 
twenty-nine  were  Spanish  Peninsulars  and  two  cre- 
óles; these  were  .  .  .  ;  that  is  to  say,  only 
one  was  Mexican.  Twenty-nine  Spaniards  and 
two  creóles  are  equal. 


Adolfo  Llanos,  in  treating  this  matter,  goes  (as 
is  his  custom  farther  than  Zamacois,  saying  that 
the  ecclesiastical  offices  of  importance  were  obtained 
by  the  creóles,  not  equally  with  the  Spaniards,  but 
preponderantly  over  them.     He  says : 

"  Americans  were  preferred  by  the  Spanish 
Kings  over  Europeans,  in  the  assignment  of  high 
ecclesiastical  dignities." 

Let  us  leave  Llanos  and  the  other  blind  defend- 
ers of  the  vice-regal  government. 


AGUSTÍN    RIVERA.  5  I 

SCIENCE  VERSUS   SCHOLASTICISM. 

Modern  philosophers,  notable  In  European  lands 
(outside  of  Spain)  were  numbered  by  hundreds, 
and  the  young  Gamarra  did  nought  but  glean  in  so 
abundant  a  field.  Galileo  and  Harvey!  What 
brilliant  and  suitable  examples  men  of  great  talent 
furnish !  Harvey,  in  his  study,  with  a  frog  in  his 
hand.  As  parallels  and  comparisons  are  most  use- 
ful in  understanding  a  subject,  as  a  recognized  rule 
of  law  says  that  placing  two  opposing  views  face  to 
face  both  are  more  clearly  known,  I  venture  to  add 
—  after  Gamarra's  fashion  —  a  parallel  between 
Harvey  and  Domingo  Soto.  A  frog!  here  I  have  a 
thing  apparently  vile  and  despicable;  the  Epistles 
of  Saint  Paul,  here  I  have  a  thing  infinitely  sub- 
lime. A  film  to  which  the  intestines  of  a  frog  are 
attached;  what  thing  meaner?  The  science  of  the- 
ology; what  thing  so  grand?  To  soil  one's  hands 
with  the  blood  and  secretions  of  an  animal;  occupa- 
tion, to  all  appearance,  vile;  to  take  the  pen  for 
explaining  the  Holy  Scriptures;  occupation,  sacred 
and  sublime.  And  yet,  Domingo  Soto  with  his 
scholastic  commentaries  on  the  Epistle  of  Saint 
Paul  to  the  Romans  was  of  no  use  to  humanity ;  and 
Harvey,  presenting  himself  in  the  great  theater  of 
the  scientific  world,  with  a  frog  in  his  hand,  discov- 
ering the  circulation  of  the  blood,  rendered  an 
immense  service  to  mankind.  Domingo  Soto  was 
a  Catholic,  and  one  of  the  Fathers  of  the  Council 


52  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

of  Trent,  and  Harvey  was  a  Protestant  —  and  yet, 
without  doubt,  the  Catholic  Church  does  not 
esteem  the  commentaries  of  its  son  Soto,  and,  in 
the  Vatican's  council,  has  sounded  the  praises  of 
the  discovery  of  the  Protestant  Harvey. 

PHILOSOPHY  IN  NEW  SPAIN. 
COROLLARIES. 

1.  Studies  never  flourished  under  the  Colonial 
regime. 

2.  Spain  in  the  seventeenth  century  and  in  the 
first  and  second  thirds  of  the  eighteenth  century 
was  poor  and  backward  in  philosophy,  and  New 
Spain  during  the  same  period  was  in  the  same  pre- 
dicament. 

3.  That  New  Spain  was  backward  in  philosophy 
at  that  time  because  such  was  the  philosophy  of 
the  epoch,  is  false. 

4.  The  ideas  and  impulse  in  the  modern  philo- 
sophical sciences,  which  New  Spain  receiv^ed  during 
the  last  years  of  the  eighteenth  and  the  early  years 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  did  not  come  mainly 
from  Spain,  but  from  the  other  principal  nations  of 
Europe. 

5.  It  follows,  from  Spain  and  New  Spain  hav- 
ing been  backward  in  philosophy,  that  they  were 
also  backward  in  theology,  jurisprudence,  medicine, 
and  in  all  the  sciences,  because  philosophy  is  the 
basis  of  all. 


AGUSTÍN    RIVERA.  53 

6.  The  expression,  "  Spain  taught  us  what  she 
herself  knew,"  is  not  a  good  excuse  or  exoneration. 

7.  The  scholastic  philosophy  is  useful;  the 
pseudo-scholastic  is  prejudicial. 

8.  The  history  of  the  viceroyal  government  is 
most  useful. 

9.  This  dissertation  is  a  new  book. 

10.  *'  Not  as  a  spider,  nor  as  an  ant,  but  as  a 
bee." 

1 1.  The  union  between  Spaniards  and  Mexicans 
is  very  useful;  but  history  cannot  be  silenced  by  the 
claim  that  it  is  a  social  union. 

DIALOGUE    RETWEEN   AGUSTÍN   RIVERA   AND   FLO- 
RENCITO  LEVILON. 

"  How  are  you,  sir?  " 

"How  are  you,  Florencito?  When  did  you 
arrive : 

"  Yesterday." 

"  I  am  greatly  pleased  that  you  have  called  to 
see  me.     What  have  you  studied  this  year?  " 

"The  Aztec  language;  here  is  the  invitation  to 
my  public  examination.  The  program  was  as  fine 
as  usual,  since  my  teacher,  Señor  Don  Agustin 
de  la  Rosa,  spoke  splendidly,  as  every  year,  of  the 
philosophy  and  richness  of  the  Aztec  tongue." 

"  Thank  you.  And  how  many  students  were 
there  in  the  subject?  " 

"  This  year  we  were  so  many,  last  year  there 


54  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

were  so  many,  the  year  before  so  many,  and  the 
same,  more  or  less,  so  I  have  heard,  in  years  gone 
by." 

"  What  a  pity !  They  are  few,  almost  nothing 
in  comparison  with  the  necessity  that  exists  in  our 
Republic  for  men  who  study  the  native  tongues. 
But  these  few,  at  least,  attend  the  exercises  every 
school  day?  " 

*'  No,  sir;  far  from  it!  Some  attend,  and  others 
not,  just  as  they  please." 

"And,  the  days  they  do  attend,  they  study  the 
Aztec  grammar  and  hear  it  explained?  " 

"  No,  sir;  by  no  means.  Many  days  the  teacher 
and  we  occupy  ourselves  in  the  Levilon." 

"And  what  is  that?" 

"  Levilon,  levilon,  ton,  ton." 

"  I  understand  you,  even  less." 

"  It  is  a  sort  of  a  marsellaise  against  cleanness 
and  neatness  of  person  and  dress;  that  is  to  say, 
against  politeness"* 

"  But,  man,  in  a  college  for  the  instruction  of 
youth  —  however,  let  us  return  to  our  subject.  In 
the  three  years  you  have  studied  Aztec,  have  you 
learned  to  speak  it?  " 

"  No,  sir;  by  no  means." 

*'  Then,  what  have  you  learned?  " 

"  The  philosophy  and  richness  of  the  Aztec 
tongue." 


*  There   is   a    hard   drive   here    upon    the    old   teacher,   which   will   be 
understood    only    by    those    who    have    seen    him. 


AGUSTÍN    RIVERA.  55 

"  But  you  must  have  studied  the  four  divisions 
of  Aztec  grammar  — analogy,  syntax,  prosody, 
and  orthography  —  and  by  this  complete  study 
arrived  at  an  understanding  of  the  philosophy  and 
richness  of  the  language." 

"  No,  sir." 

"  But  have  you  not  had  a  public  examination?  " 

"  Yes,  sir;  but  those  who  were  publicly  examined 
in  past  years,  have  as  little,  made  a  complete  study 
of  the  grammar,  but  have  also  learned  the  philoso- 
phy and  richness  of  the  Mexican  tongue." 

"  Come !  let  us  see.  How  many  years  has  the 
chair  of  the  Aztec  language  been  established  In 
the  Seminarlo  at  Guadalajara?" 

"  About  thirty." 

"  And  during  about  thirty  years  has  some  priest 
gone  forth  from  the  Institution  to  preach  to  the 
Indians  in  their  native  language?  " 

"Why,  no  sir!  During  the  thirty  years  what 
has  been,  and  is,  learned  Is  the  philosophy  and 
richness  of  the  Aztec  language.  You  must  have 
seen  the  precious  little  work,  by  my  professor,  upon 
the  beauty  and  richness  of  the  Aztec  language,  ele- 
gantly bound,  which  was  sent  to  the  Paris  Exposi- 
tion." 

"But  man  —  Florenclto,"  (rising,  pacing,  and 
puffing  at  my  cigar)  "  really,  all  this  and  nothing 
are  much  the  same.  These  programs,  In  which 
one  speaks  eloquently  of  the  beauty  and  richness  of 
the  Aztec  language  are  no  more  than  pretty  the- 


56  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

ones.  This  book  upon  the  richness  and  beauty  of 
the  Aztec  language,  with  all  its  elegant  binding,  is 
but  a  pretty  theory.  The  practical!  The  practi- 
cal! Let  me  give  you  my  opinion  in  the  matter 
briefly,  and  in  four  propositions :  First,  the  eccle- 
siastical government  and  the  civil  government  have 
the  obligation  and  the  mission  of  civilizing  the 
Indians;  second,  for  this,  In  each  bishopric  and  in 
each  State  there  ought  to  be  chairs  of  the  Indian 
languages  spoken  in  the  territory  —  for  example, 
in  the  Seminary  and  in  one  of  the  State  Colleges 
of  Mexico,  there  ought  to  be  a  chair  of  the  Aztec 
language;  in  the  Seminary  and  State  College  of 
Queretaro,  there  ought  to  be  a  chair  of  Otomi;  in 
the  Seminary  and  in  the  State  College  of  jMorelia, 
there  ought  to  be  chairs  of  Tarascan  and  Mat- 
lazinca;  in  the  Seminary  and  in  the  State  College 
of  Guadalajara,  there  ought  to  be  a  chair  of  the 
Cora  language;  in  the  Seminary  and  State  College 
of  San  Luis  Potosi,  there  ought  to  be  a  chair  of 
the  Huastec;  in  the  Seminary  and  the  State  College 
of  Puebla,  there  ought  to  be  a  chair  of  Aztec;  in 
the  Seminary  and  the  State  College  of  Jalapa  there 
ought  to  be  a  chair  of  Totonaco;  in  the  Seminary 
and  in  the  State  College  of  Oaxaca  there  ought  to 
be  chairs  of  the  different  indigenous  languages 
spoken  in  the  territory  —  chiefly  the  Mixtee  and 
Zapotee,  etc.;  third,  it  ought  to  be,  that  from  the 
seminaries  there  shall  go  forth  priests  to  be  curas 
in  the  Indian  towns  of  the  bishopric,  who  shall 


AGUSTÍN   RIVERA.  57 

preach  to  the  Indians  and  catechize  them  in  their 
own  language;  fourth,  it  ought  to  be,  that  from 
the  State  Colleges,  primary  teachers  shall  go  forth 
to  teach  the  elementary  branches  to  the  Indians 
of  the  State,  in  their  own  idiom  —  and  shall  go 
forth  jefes  políticos,  who  shall  be  able  to  treat  with 
the  Indians,  talking  to  them  in  their  own  lan- 
guages." 

*'  Sir,  these  things  appear  to  me  impossible." 
"  Yes,  I  know  that  there  can  be  given  but  two 
answers  to  my  proposition  and  my  arguments. 
The  first  is  the  '  non  possiimus,'  '  we  cannot.'  * 
One  can  preach  in  cathedrals  and  other  magnificent 
temples,  to  an  elegant  gathering,  afterward  print 
the  sermon  and  distribute  copies  liberally  to  select 
society ;  but  to  subject  one's  self  to  the  task  of  learn- 
ing an  indigenous  tongue,  and  to  go  to  preach  to 
the  Indians  —  that,  one  cannot  do.  One  can  be 
a  jefe  politico  in  a  city,  where  comforts  abound, 
and  draw  a  fat  salary;  but  the  abnegation  and 
patriotism  of  exercising  the  administrative  power 
in  an  Indian  town  —  a  despicable  thing!  Sad 
reply.  Unhappy  Mexican  nation  during  the  colo- 
nial epoch !  and,  unhappy  Mexican  nation,  still,  in 
1891,  because  you  yet  preserve  many  —  even  very 
many  —  remnants  of  the  colonial  education,  and 
this  is  the  principal  hindrance  to  your  progress  and 
well-being.  We  Mexicans,  because  of  the  educa- 
tion which  we  received  from  the  Spanish,  arc  much 

*  The  second  is,  it  will  be  costly. 


58  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

given  to  scholastic  disputes,  to  beautiful  discourses, 
pretty  poems,  enthusiastic  toasts,  quixotic  proclama- 
tions, projects,  laws,  decrees,  programs  of  scien- 
tific education,  plans  of  public  amelioration,  in 
Andalusian  style  and  well-rounded  periods;  but,  as 
for  the  practical  —  the  Spanish  sloth,  the  Spanish 
fanaticism  for  the  statu  quo,  the  Indian  idleness 
and  cowardice,  do  but  little.  In  theories  we  have 
the  boldness  of  Don  Quixote,  and  in  practice  we 
have  the  pusillanimity,  the  inability  to  conquer 
obstacles,  and  the  phlegm  of  Sancho  Panza." 

"  My  teacher,  Don  Agustín,"  said  Florencito, 
"  has  told  us  that  Padre  Sahagun  and  many  other 
missionaries  of  the  sixteenth  century  dedicated 
themselves  to  the  study  of  the  native  tongues  be- 
cause they  found  them  highly  philosophical  and 
adapted  to  express  even  metaphysical  ideas." 

"  That  is  true,"  I  replied,  "  but  the  Padre  Sa- 
hagun and  the  other  missionary  philologists  of  the 
sixteenth  century  dedicated  themselves  to  the  study 
of  the  Indian  languages  of  the  country,  not  to  de- 
tain themselves  .  .  .  (in)  the  philosophy  and 
richness  of  the  Aztec  language,  without  moving  a 
peg  to  go  and  teach  some  Indian;  but  in  order  that 
they  might  use  them  as  means  for  the  practical  — 
to  wit,  to  preach,  to  catechize,  and  to  teach  the 
Indians  the  civilizing  truths  of  Christianity." 


ALFREDO    CHA  VERO. 


59 


ALFREDO  CHAVERO. 


Few  men  are  better  known  throughout  Mexico 
today  than  Alfredo  Chavero.  As  a  lawyer,  a  politi- 
cian, a  man  of  affairs  and  a  writer,  he  has  been  emi- 
nently successful.  He  was  born  in  the  City  of 
Mexico,  February  i,  1841.  He  studied  law,  and 
began  the  practice  of  the  profession  at  the  age  of 
twenty  years.  In  1862  he  was  elected  Deputy  to 
Congress.  A  Liberal  in  politics,  he  was  associated 
with  Juarez  throughout  the  period  of  the  French 
intervention.  After  the  downfall  of  the  Empire  In 
1867,  he  entered  journalism  and  began  his  career 


6o  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

in  letters.  During  the  administration  of  Lerdo  de 
Tejada  he  was  in  Europe,  but  when  that  govern- 
ment fell,  he  returned  to  Mexico  and  was  ap- 
pointed to  the  second  position  in  the  department  of 
foreign  affairs.  He  has  occupied  other  important 
government  positions,  among  them  that  of  City 
Treasurer  and  Governor  of  the  Federal  District 
and  has  for  many  years  been  a  member  of  the 
House  of  Deputies,  of  which  he  has  at  times  been 
the  presiding  officer. 

Señor  Chavero  is,  probably,  the  foremost  living 
Mexican  authority  upon  the  antiquities  of  that 
country.  He  is  also  an  eminent  historian.  In 
both  archaeology  and  history  he  has  written  im- 
portant works.  At  the  qr.adricentennial  celebra- 
tion of  the  discovery  of  America,  he  was  the  chief 
member  of  a  commission,  which  among  other 
things  published  a  great  work  —  Antigüedades 
Mexicanas  —  which  was  largely  devoted  to  fac- 
simile reproduction  of  ancient  Mexican  picture 
manuscripts,  before  unpublished;  the  accompany- 
ing explanatory^  text  was  written  by  Chavero  him- 
self. Among  other  archieologlcal  works  he  has 
written  Los  dioses  astronómicos  de  los  antiguos 
Alexicanos  (the  Astronomical  Gods  of  the  Ancient 
Mexicans) —  and  studies  upon  the  stone  of  the  sun, 
and  the  stone  of  hunger.  He  has  latelv  published 
the  JVheel  of  Years,  and  Hieroglyphic  Paint- 
ings. He  was  the  author  of  the  first  volume  of 
the   great  work  Mexico   á  través  de  los  Siglos, 


ALFREDO    CHAVERO.  6l 

(Mexico,  Through  the  Centuries),  a  history  of 
Mexico  in  five  large  quarto  volumes.  Each  of 
these  volumes  dealt  with  a  distinct  epoch  of  Mexi- 
can history  and  was  written  by  a  specialist.  Cha- 
vero's  volume  treated  Prehistoric  Mexico  in  a  mas- 
terly fashion.  In  biography  Chavero's  lives  of 
Saliaguu,  Siguenza,  and  Boturtui  deal  with  Span- 
ish-Mexicans, his  Itzcoatl  and  Montezuma  with 
natives.  He  has  edited,  with  scholarly  annotation, 
the  works  of  Ixtlilxoch'itl  and  Muñoz  Camargo's 
Historia  de  TI  axe  al  a. 

But  Alfredo  Chav^ero  has  also  written  in  the 
field  of  dramatic  literature,  some  of  his  plays  hav- 
ing been  well  received.  Xóchitl,  Ouetzalcoatl  and 
Los  Amores  de  Alarcon  (The  Loves  of  Alarcon) 
are  among  the  best  known.  In  Xóchitl  and  Qiietz- 
alcoatl,  the  romantic  events  of  the  days  of  the 
Conquest  and  the  life  of  the  Indians,  furnish  his 
material.  In  all  his  writing,  Chavero  is  simple, 
direct,  and  strong;  his  style  is  graceful  and  his 
treatment  interesting. 

Our  quotations  are  drawn  from  Mexico  á  través 
de  los  Siglos  and  Xóchitl. 

THE    CHRONICLERS. 

Still,  among  the  first  writers  of  the  colonial 
epoch  we  shall  encounter  some  authentic  material 
regarding  the  ancient  Indians.  Some  chroniclers 
based  their  narratives  upon  hieroglyphs,  which  they 


62.  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

did  not  limit  themselves  to  interpreting,  but  which 
also  served  them  as  a  foundation  for  more  ex- 
tended records;  contemporaries  of  the  Conquest, 
they  had  heard  from  the  conquered  themselves, 
their  traditional  history.  Others,  without  availing 
themselves  of  the  assistance  of  the  paintings,  sim- 
ply recorded  the  traditions  in  their  works  —  and 
we  must  remember  that,  on  account  of  the  Inade- 
quacy of  their  hieroglyphic  writing,  the  Mexicans 
were  ever  accustomed  to  carry  the  glorious  deeds 
of  their  race  in  memory,  which  they  taught  their 
children,  in  song  and  story,  that  they  might  not 
be  forgotten.  Without  doubt,  the  first  works  of 
the  chroniclers  suffered  from  the  natural  vagueness 
which  is  felt  in  expressing  new  ideas.  They  are 
not,  and  could  not  be,  complete  treatises  because 
each  wrote  merely  what  he  himself  could  gather. 
The  most  important  personages  of  the  vanquished 
people  dead,  in  fighting  for  their  country,  few  re- 
mained who  knew  the  secrets  of  their  history,  and 
the  greater  number  of  these  did  not  lend  themselves 
to  their  revelation.  The  chroniclers,  themselves, 
concealed  something  of  what  they  learned,  espe- 
cially if  it  related  to  the  gods  and  the  religious 
calendar,  for  fear  of  reawakening  the  barely  dor- 
mant Idolatry.  Also  from  the  very  first,  the  desire 
to  harmonize  the  beliefs  of  the  Indians,  and  their 
traditions,  with  the  Biblical  narrative,  was,  in  part, 
responsible  for  the  confusion  in  their  writings;  a 
desire  very  natural  In  that  epoch,  and  which  must 


ALFREDO    CHAVERO.  63 

be  taken  into  account  in  reading  the  chronicles,  in 
order  to  get  rid  of  false  judgments  born  from  it. 
But  whatever  may  be  their  defects,  it  cannot  be 
denied  that  they  constitute  a  most  precious  mate- 
rial, in  which,  seeking  discreetly  and  logically, 
abundant  historic  treasures  are  encountered.  We 
present,  therefore,  some  discussion  of  the  principal 
chroniclers  and  their  relative  importance  and  exam- 
ine impartially  the  works  of  our  historians. 

THE   SURRENDER  OF  CUAUHTEMOC. 

At  dawn  Sandoval  proceeded,  with  the  brigan- 
tines  to  take  possession  of  the  lakelet;  Alavardo 
was  to  advance  from  the  market,  and  Cortes  sallied 
from  his  camp,  with  the  three  iron  cannon,  certain 
that  their  balls  would  compel  the  besieged  to  sur- 
render and  would  do  them  less  damage  than  the 
iury  of  the  allies.  In  his  march  he  met  many  men 
almost  dead,  weakened  women,  and  emaciated  chil- 
dren, on  their  way  to  the  Spanish  camp.  Some 
miserable  beings,  in  order  to  escape  from  their  last 
hold,  had  thrown  themselves  into  the  canals,  or 
had  fallen  into  them,  pushed  from  behind  by 
others,  and  were  drowned.  Cortes  issued  orders 
that  no  harm  should  be  done  them,  but  the  allies 
robbed  them  and  killed  more  than  fifteen  thousand 
persons.  The  priests  and  warriors,  thin  with 
hunger  and  worn  with  labor,  armed  with  their 
weapons    and   bearing    their   standards,    passively 


64  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

awaited  the  attack,  on  top  of  the  temple,  on  house 
roofs,  or  standing  in  their  canoes.  Cortes  ascended 
also  to  the  roof  of  a  house  near  the  lake,  that  he 
might  oversee  the  operations.  He  again  offered 
peace  to  those  who  were  in  the  canoes,  and  insisted 
that  some  one  should  go  to  speak  with  Cuauhtemoc. 
Two  principales  agreed  to  go  and,  after  a  long 
time  the  Cihtiacoatl  returned  with  them  to  say  that 
his  king  did  not  care  to  speak  of  peace.  Some  five 
hours  having  passed  in  these  transactions,  Cortes 
commanded  to  open  fire  with  the  cannons.  It  was 
three  in  the  afternoon,  when  Cuauhtemoc's  shell- 
horn  was  heard  for  the  last  time;  the  Mexicans  on 
the  east  and  south  precipitated  themselves  upon 
their  opponents  and  the  canoes  attacked  the  brigan- 
tines. 

Cuauhtemoc,  when  it  was  no  longer  in  human 
power  to  resist,  preferred  flight  to  surrender,  and  in 
order  to  succeed,  distracted  the  attention  of  his 
opponents.  While  these,  battling  and  routing  the 
Mexicans,  penetrated  into  their  last  refuge  from 
the  south  and  east,  and  while  Sandoval  was  destroy- 
ing the  fleet  of  canoes,  Cuauhtemoc,  with  Tecuich- 
poch  and  the  chief  dignitaries,  sallied  in  canoes 
from  Tlacochcalco  —  gained  the  western  canal, 
whence,  by  great  labor,  he  reached  the  lake.  He 
directed  himself  toward  the  opposite  shore,  to  seek 
refuge  In  Cuauhtlalpan. 

But  Garcia  Holguin  saw  the  canoes  of  the 
fugitives  and  setting  the  sails  of  his  brigantine, 


ALFREDO    CHA VERO.  65 

gave  chase;  already  he  had  them  within  range  and 
the  gunners  were  in  the  prow,  ready  to  shoot,  when 
Cuauhtemoc  rose  and  said  —  'Do  not  shoot;  I 
am  the  king  of  Mexico;  take  me  and  lead  me  to 
Malintzin,  but  let  no  one  harm  the  queen.'  With 
Cuauhtemoc  were  .  .  .  ,  the  only  dignitaries, 
high-priests,  and  principales,  who  had  survived. 
All  were  transferred  to  the  brigantine. 
Cortes,  as  we  have  said,  was  upon  the  roof  of  a 
house  in  the  quarter  of  Amaxac,  a  house  belonging 
to  a  principal,  named  Aztacoatzin.  He  caused  it 
to  be  decorated  with  rich  mantles  and  brightly 
colored  mattings,  for  the  reception  of  the  imperial 
captive.  By  his  side  were  Marina  and  Aguilar, 
Pedro  de  Alavardo  and  Cristobal  de  Olid.  The 
prisoners  arrived  led  by  Sandoval  and  Ilolguin. 
Cortes  rose  and,  with  the  noble  respect  of  a  con- 
queror for  the  unfortunate  hero,  embraced  Cuauh- 
temoc tenderly.  Tears  came  to  the  eyes  of  the 
captive  and,  placing  his  hand  upon  the  hilt  of 
the  conqueror's  polgnard,  said  to  him  the  follow- 
ing words  with  which  at  once  succumbed  a  king,  his 
race,  his  native  land,  and  his  gods  — '  Malintzin, 
after  having  done  what  I  could  in  defense  of  my 
city  and  my  nation,  T  come,  perforce  and  a  pris- 
oner, before  thy  person  and  thy  power;  take,  now, 

this  dagger  and  kill  mc.' 

*  *  ♦  ♦ 

Xóchitl  is  a  fair  example  of  Chavero's  dramas. 
It  comprises  three  acts  and  is  in  verse.     There  are 


66  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

but  five  actors  —  Cortes,  Marina  (his  Indian  in- 
terpreter and  mistress),  Xóchitl  (a  beautiful  In- 
dian girl,  supposed  to  be  Marina's  sister),  Bernal 
Diaz  del  Castillo  (faithful  soldier  of  Cortes  and 
best  chronicler  of  the  Conquest),  and  Gonzalo 
Alaminos  (brought,  though  a  mere  youth,  from 
Spain,  by  Cortes,  as  a  page).  Xóchitl  is,  really, 
an  Aztec  maiden  who,  when  the  Spaniards  first 
appeared,  was  serving  in  the  temple;  Gonzalo, 
wounded,  was  brought  a  prisoner  to  the  temple, 
where  he  is  nursed  by  Xóchitl,  between  whom  and 
himself  ardent  love  arises.  After  the  capture  of 
the  city,  they  are  separated  and  Xóchitl  is  sent,  as  a 
slave  to  Tabasco,  a  present  to  Marina's  unknown 
sister.  Marina  summons  her  sister  to  Mexico ;  she 
starts  but  dies  upon  the  journey  and  Xóchitl,  substi- 
tuted for  her,  reaches  the  city  and  is  taken  at  once 
into  Cortes'  house,  by  her  supposed  sister.  Cortes, 
having  tired  of  Marina,  falls  in  love  wtih  Xóchitl; 
his  affection  is  not  reciprocated.  Marina,  know- 
ing that  the  love  of  Cortes  has  cooled,  though  she 
does  not  know  the  new  object  of  his  love,  remorse- 
ful for  her  treachery  to  her  own  people  and  smart- 
ing under  the  contempt  of  Indian  and  Spaniard 
both,  is  ever  complaining  and  querulous.  Xóchitl, 
terrified  at  Cortes'  love,  consults  Bernal  and  makes 
known  the  facts  to  Gonzalo.  They  plan  to  flee 
and  set  an  hour  for  meeting.  Cortes,  anxious  to 
rid  himself  of  Marina,  determines  to  send  her  to 
Orizaba,  to  wed  Jaramillo;  sending  for  Gonzalo 


ALFREDO    CHAVERO.  67 

he  orders  him  to  accompany  her  and  arranges  the 
departure  at  the  very  time  set  for  elopement,  by 
the  lovers.  The  moment  is  one  of  public  tumult, 
Gonzalo  keeps  his  appointment  but,  at  the  critical 
moment,  Xochitl's  courage  fails.  Marina  appears 
and  Gonzalo  abruptly  leaves;  he  is  shot  in  the 
tumult.  Meantime  the  two  women  converse; 
Xóchitl  narrates  the  story  of  her  life,  her  substitu- 
tion for  Marina's  sister,  her  love  for  Gonzalo  and 
Cortes'  love  for  her.  They  separate  in  anger. 
Cortes  entering,  announces  Gonzalo's  death,  and 
mourns  him,  confessing  him  to  be  his  natural  son. 
Xóchitl,  in  her  agony,  tells  Cortes  of  the  love  there 
had  been  between  Gonzalo  and  herself;  Marina, 
appearing  at  this  moment,  hands  the  unhappy  girl 
the  weapon  with  which  she  kills  herself.  As  she 
dies,  she  reveals  her  complete  identity,  she  is 
the  last  survivor  of  the  royal  house,  the  sister 
of  Cuauhtemoc.  Cortes  overwhelmed  by  grief 
for  Gonzalo,  loss  of  Xóchitl,  and  weariness  of  Ma- 
rina, sends  the  latter  at  once  to  Orizaba,  in  Bernal's 
care. 

PASSAGES  FROM  XÓCHITL. 

Bernal  and  Gonzalo,  meeting,  discuss  the  recent 
conquest  of  Xueva  Galicia  by  the  infamous  Nuno 
de  Guzman. 

Gonzalo.   "  If  to  lay  waste  fields  and  towns, 
If  to  assassinate  war  captives, 
If  to  violate  pledged  faith, 


68  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

Is  to  be  Christian,  I  admit 
That  Don  Ñuño  de  Guzman 

Is  of  Christians,  the  very  type. 
The  TlaxcaUans  complain, 

Who  have  been  our  faithful  allies, 
That,  like  beasts  of  burden. 

He  has  led  them  over 
Hard  roads,  not  fighting  — 

As  they  were  led  to  expect  — 
But,  bearing  on  their  shoulders 

Great,  heavy  burdens; 
And  that  those,  who,  from  fatigue, 

Bernal,  could  go  no  further. 
Were  instanter  thrown  to  the  dogs, 

Or  left,  without  assistance, 
In  the  forests.     Their  shoulders 

Covered  with  wounds,  I  have  seen ; 
Upon  frightful  chafed  spots, 

The  memory  of  which  appals  me, 
They  carried  our  provisions; 

Meantime,  Don  Ñuño,  tranquil, 
Sought  renown  in  war. 

Or  enriched  himself, 
By  plundering  defenseless  villages. 

Imagine,  friend  Bernal, 
If  he  mistreats  our  allies. 

What  he  would  do  to  enemies." 

*      *      *      * 

Xóchitl    confers   with    Bernal   as   to   what   she 
ought  to  do: 


ALFREDO    CHAVERO. 


69 


Bernal.      '*  But,  tell  me.     Before  today 

Has  Cortes  told  you  of  his  love? 

Xóchitl.    Until  today,  I  have  not  seen  him  at  my 
feet. 
His  consuming  passion, 
Through  his  betraying  glance 
I  ha\e,  for  some  time,  realized. 
For  this  reason,  Bernal,  I  avoid 
Finding  myself  alone  with  him. 

Bernal.     You  ought  to  flee. 

Xóchitl.     I  fear  to  find  myself 

Alone  in  the  great  world. 

Bernal.       But,  when  the  hawk 
Sees  a  lonely  dove, 
He  seizes  it,  within  his  talons; 
When  the  volcano  bursts  forth 
It  destroys  in  its  terrific  energy 
The  palm,  which  grows  at  its  base. 
When  the  wave  is  lashed  to  fury, 
The  bark  sinks  in  the  sea; 
And,  at  the  blast  of  adversity, 
Happiness  vanishes. 
(Pause.) 

Xóchitl.    Do  you  think  Cortes  ever ? 

Bernal.      If  he  loves  thee,  good  God ! 

Xóchitl 

Bernal. 


Then,  both  of  us  must    leave. 
You  will  leave,  with  Gonzalo? 
Do  you  know  to  what  you  expose  your- 
self? 
Do  you  know  that,  Hernando  Cortes, 


yo  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

If  he  sees  himself  mocked,  is 

Than  the  panther  fiercer, 

And  that  his  rage  would 

Dash  you  to  pieces  at  his  feet? 
Xóchitl.    And  what  signifies  life  to  7ne? 

Bernal.      But  Gonzalo,  also,  he 

Xóchitl.    Hold !  for  God's  sake,  do  not  speak 

That  murderous  word. 

Departure  makes  me  tremble. 

And  I  tremble  if  I  remain; 

Bernal!  everything  causes  me  terror; 

My  uncertainty  is  frightful 

To  remain  is  impossible 

Without  Gonzalo,  go,  I  cannot." 

(She  departs.) 

*      *      *      * 

Cortes  communicates  his  plans  for  Marina  — 
first  to  Gonzalo,  then  to  Marina,  herself. 

(Pause.) 
Cortes.      "We  are  likely  to  have  an  uprising, 
And  I  do  not  wish  you  to  be 
Involv^ed  in  it ;  how  good  it  is  to  die 
In  actual  battle 

And  not  fighting  the  vile  rabble. 
For  this  reason  you  are,  with  Marina, 
To  leave  for  Orizaba 
At  dawn. 
Gonzalo.    (Aside).     And   she  will  remain   here, 

without  me ! 
Cortes.      I  expect  you  at  dawn,  Gonzalo, 


ALFREDO    CIIAVERO. 


71 


A  passport,  for  leaving  the  city, 

With  a  veiled  lady, 

I  shall  give  you. 
Gonzalo.  Veiled? 
Cortes.  So 

Will  the  passport  read:  I  do  not  wish 

Them  to  know  who  it  is.     You  ought 

To  leave  at  dawn.     Go 

To  rest  yourself. 
Gonzalo.   May  happy 

Dreams  be  yours.      (Aside.)     At  dawn  ! 

Xóchitl  .  .  .  soon  I'll  return  for  thee." 
*      *      *      * 

Cortes.      "  To  counteract  the  plotting 

Of  so  many  enemies,  I  go  to  Spain. 

In  thinking  of  your  happiness 

Marina.    You  think  of  my  happiness,  Don  Her- 
nando? 
Cortes.      —  Considering  that  your  nobility 
Deserves  a  name,  a  grandeur. 

Worthy  of  you,  Marina, 

Marina.    I  know  not  what  vile  treason  my  soul 

divines. 
Cortes.      —  Wealth,  and  state. 

And  a  husband  —  Don  Juan  de  Jara- 

millo 

Marina.    Cease!     Hernando,  cease! 
Cortes.      You  leave,  tomorrow,  for  Orizaba. 
Marina.    And,  thus,  you  abandon  me? 

And   thus   you    crown   my   loyalty   and 
love? 


72  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

Oh  monster!     Impious  father! 

And  thy  son,  Cortes?     My  son? 

No,  the  very  panther 

Does  not  abandon  its  little  ones:  that 
beast. 

More  human  heart 

Has,    than    the    grand    Christian    con- 
queror. 
Cortes.      We  must  needs  separate. 

And  no  power,  you  know  it  well. 

Can  bend  my  fixed  purpose." 


In  1882,  General  Riva  Palacio,  author  and 
statesman,  published  a  little  book  Los  Ceros  (The 
Zeros),  under  the  ftojn-de-plitttie  of  Cero.  It  was 
a  good  natured  criticism  of  contemporary  authors, 
written  in  a  satirical  vein.  We  will  close  w^ith 
some  quotations  from  it  regarding  Chavero. 

"  Well,  then,  let  us  study  Chavero  upon  his  two 
weak  sides,  that  is  to  say  upon  his  strong  sides, 
because,  it  is  a  curious  thing,  that  we  always  say 
— '  this  is  my  forte,'  when  we  are  speaking  of  some 
penchant,  while  common  opinion  at  once  translates, 
'  this  is  his  weakness  ';  strength  is  the  impregnable 
side,  but  we  call  the  more  vulnerable,  the  strong 
side. 

"  Archaeology  and  the  drama !  Does  it  seem 
to  you  the  title  of  a  comedy?  But  no,  dear  sir, 
these  are  the  passions  of  our  friend,  Alfredo  Cha- 
vero. 


ALFREDO   CHAVERO.  73 

"  True,  archaeologists  and  dramatists  are  lacking 
in  this  land  so  full  of  antiques  and  comicalities; 
but  theatrical  management  is  difficult  and  the  way 
is  sown  —  worse  than  with  thorns  —  almost  with 
bayonets. 

"  Alfredo  has  produced  good  dramas,  but  nobly 
dominated  by  the  patriotic  spirit,  he  has  wished 
to  place  upon  the  boards,  such  personages  as  the 
Queen  Xóchitl,  and  Meconetzin,  and  with  these 
personages  no  one  gains  a  reputation  here  in  Mex- 
ico. .  .  .  Our  society,  our  nation,  has  no  love 
for  its  traditions.  Perhaps  those  writers  are  to 
blame  for  this,  who  ever  seek  for  the  actors  in  their 
story,  personages  of  the  middle  ages,  who  love  and 
fight  in  fantastic  castles  on  the  banks  of  the 
Rhine,  or  ladies  and  knights  of  the  times  of  Orgaz 
and  Villamediana;  those  novelists,  who  disdain  the 
slightest  reference  in  their  works,  to  the  banquets, 
dress,  and  customs  of  our  own  society;  who  long 
to  give  aristocratic  flavor  to  their  novels,  by  pic- 
turing Parisian  scenes  in  Mexico  and  sketching 
social  classes,  which  they  have  seen  through  the 
pages  of  Arrscnne  Houssaye,  Kmile  Zola,  Henri 
Bourger,  or  Paison  de  Terrail;  and  our  poets,  who 
ever  speak  of  nightingales  and  larks,  gazelles  and 
jacinths,  without  ever  venturing  to  give  place,  in 
their  doleful  ditties,  to  the  ciiltlacoclic,  nor  the 
zentzontl,  nor  the  cocomitl,  nor  the  yoloxochitl." 


74  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

"  As  the  Arabs  have  their  Hegira,  the  Chris- 
tians their  era,  and  the  Russians  their  calendar 
without  the  Gregorian  correction,  so  Chaverito* 
has  his  personal  era  and  chronology.  The  eohthic 
or  neolithic  ages  signify  nought  to  him,  nor  the 
Jurassic  nor  the  cretaceous  periods;  he  counts  and 
divides  his  periods  In  a  manner  peculiar  to  himself 
and  comprehensible  to  us,  the  Ignoramuses  In  ge- 
ology, archíEology,  and  palaeontology. 

"  Thus,  for  example,  treating  of  archaeology  he 
says :  '  In  Manuel  Payno's  boyhood  ' —  when  he 
refers  to  preadamlte  man;  of  men  like  Guillermo 
Prieto,  he  says  *  they  are  of  the  geological  horizon 
of  Guillermo  Valle  ';  soldiers,  like  Corona,  he  calls 
*  volcanic  formations  ' ;  the  customs'  house  receipts 
he  names  '  marine  sediments ' ;  '  the  stone  age,'  In 
his  nomenclature,  signifies  the  time  before  he  was 
elected  Deputy;  —  when  he  says  '  before  the  crea- 
tion,' It  Is  understood  that  he  refers  to  days  when 
he  had  not  yet  been  Governor  of  the  Federal  Dis- 
trict; and  If  he  says  'after  Christ,'  he  must  be 
supposed  to  speak  of  an  epoch  posterior  to  his  con- 
nection with  the  State  Department;  and  it  Is 
claimed,  that  he  is  so  skilled  In  understanding  hier- 
oglyphs, that  he  has  deciphered  the  whole  history 
of  Xochimilco,  in  the  pittings  left  by  small-pox,  on 
the  face  of  a  son  of  that  pueblo." 


"  Suppose,  dear  reader,  you   encounter  one  of 
those  stones,  so  often  found  In  excavating  In  Mex- 

*  Little  Chavero:  half-affectionate,  half-jocular  diminutive  of  Chavero. 


ALFREDO    CHAVERO.  75 

ico,  a  fragment  on  which  are  to  be  seen,  coarsely 
cut,  some  engravings,  or  horrible  reliefs,  or  shape- 
less figures  —  have  it  washed,  and  present  it  to 
Chavero. 

"  Alfredo  will  wrinkle  his  forehead,  take  a 
pinch  of  snuff,  join  his  hands  behind  him,  and  dis- 
playing so  much  of  his  paunch  as  possible,  will  spit 
out  for  your  benefit,  a  veritable  discourse: 

"  '  The  passage  which  this  stone  represents  is 
well  known;  it  figures  in  an  episode  in  the  great 
war  between  the  Atepocates,*  warlike  population 
of  southern  Anahuac,  and  the  Escuimiles,  their 
rivals,  in  which  the  latter  were  finally  conquered. 
The  person  standing  is  Chilpocle  XI,  of  the  dy- 
nasty of  the  Chacualoles,  who,  by  the  death  of  his 
father  Chichicuilote  III,  inherited  the  throne, 
being  in  his  infancy,  and  his  mother,  the  famous 
Queen  Apipisca  II,  the  Semiramis  of  Tepachi- 
chilco,  was  regent  during  his  youth.  The  person 
kneeling  is  Chayóte  V,  unfortunate  monarch  of  the 
vanquished,  who  owed  the  loss  of  his  kingdom  to 
the  treachery  of  his  councillor.  Chincual,  who  is 
behind  him.  The  two  persons  near  the  victor  are 
his  son,  who  was  afterward  the  celebrated  con- 
queror Cacahuatl  II,  and  his  councillor,  the  illus- 
trious historian  and  philosopher  Guajalote,  nick- 
named Chicuasc,  for  the  reason  that  he  had  six 
fingers  on  his  left  hand,  and  who  was  the  chronicler 
of   the   revolt   and    destruction    of   the    tribes   of 

*This  anrl  the  following  Aztec  terms  are  cither  actually  fictitious  or 
have  meanings  which  arc   ridiculous   in  the  connections  given. 


7;6  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

the  Mestlapiques.  The  two-pointed  star-symbols, 
which  are  seen  above,  are  the  arms  of  the  founder 
of  the  dynasty,  Chahiustl  the  Great,  and  this  stone 
was  sculptured  during  the  golden  age  of  the  arts 
of  the  Atepotecas,  when,  among  their  sculptors 
figured  the  noted  Ajoloth,  among  their  painters  the 
most  famous  Tlacuil,  and  among  their  architects 
the  celebrated  Huasontl.'  " 


JULIO   ZARATE. 


77 


JULIO  ZARATE. 


Julio  Zarate  was  born  April  12,  1844,  ^t  J^ilapíi» 
in  the  State  of  Vera  Cruz,  where  he  received  his 
education.  Since  he  was  twenty-three  years  of 
age  he  has  been  continuously  in  public  life.  In 
1867  he  was  elected  to  the  Chamber  of  Deputies, 
of  which  he  remained  a  member  for  twenty-five 
years,  being,  at  times,  president,  vice-president,  or 
secretary  of  the  body.     In  1879  and  1880  he  was 


78  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

the  Assistant  Secretary  of  Foreign  Affairs  for  the 
Repubhc,  in  1884  to  1886  Secretary  of  State  of 
the  State  of  Vera  Cruz,  and  from  1896  to  the 
present  time  he  has  been  a  Justice  of  the  Supreme 
Court  of  Mexico. 

Through  all  this  long  period  of  active  public 
service,  he  has  found  time  for  literar}'  work. 
From  1870  to  1875  he  was  an  editor  of  El  Siglo 
XIX  (The  Nineteenth  Century),  in  its  time  one 
of  the  most  important  journals  of  the  Mexican 
capital.  He  wrote  the  third  volume  of  the  great 
work  on  national  history  — -  México  á  través  de  los 
Siglos  (Mexico  Through  the  Centuries),  treating 
of  the  War  of  Independence.  For  twenty  years 
past,  from  1883,  he  has  been  Professor  of  General 
History  in  the  National  Normal  School.  He  has 
written  two  text-books,  one  a  compend  of  general 
history,  the  other  of  the  history  of  Mexico.  He 
has  also  been  a  contributor  to  various  literary  jour- 
nals. While  in  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  he  was 
known  for  his  oratorical  ability  and  his  speeches 
were  often  notable  for  form  and  thought.  He  is 
a  member  of  many  learned  societies  at  home  and 
abroad  —  a  miembro  de  numero  of  the  Sociedad 
Mexicana  de  Geografía  y  Estadistica  (Mexican 
Society  of  Geography  and  Statistics). 

Our  selections  are  from  México  á  través  de  los 
Siglos. 


JULIO   ZARATE.  79 

THE  DEATH  OF  HIDALGO. 

Supporting  himself  on  the  opinion  of  the  Asses- 
sor Bracho,  the  Commandant  General,  Don  Nico- 
lás Salcedo  had  already,  since  the  26th,  ordered 
the  execution.  After  the  degradation  (from  the 
priestly  office)  had  been  concluded,  the  sentence  of 
death  and  confiscation  of  his  goods  was  made 
known  to  Hidalgo  on  the  same  day  —  the  29th  — 
and  he  was  told  to  select  a  confessor  to  impart  to 
him  the  last  religious  consolations.  The  illustrious 
promulgator  of  independence  selected  Friar  José 
Maria  Rojas,  who  had  been  notary  of  the  ecclesi- 
astical process  instituted  by  the  Bishop  of  Durango. 
In  his  prison,  which  was  the  room  under  the  tower 
of  the  chapel  of  the  Royal  Hospital,  he  received 
kind  and  compassionate  treatment  from  his  two 
guards,  Ortega  and  Guaspe  (a  Spaniard),  alcaldes 
of  that  prison,  to  whom  he  showed  his  gratitude  in 
two  ten-line  poems  written  by  himself  with  a  piece 
of  coal  upon  the  wall,  the  evening  of  his  death. 

The  30th  of  July,  the  last  day  of  his  life, 
dawned  and  in  his  last  hours  he  showed  the  great- 
est calmness.  *'  He  noticed,"  says  Bustamente, 
"  that  at  breakfast  they  had  given  him  less  milk 
than  usual,  and  asked  for  more,  saying  that  it  ought 
not  to  be  less,  just  because  it  was  last. 
At  the  moment  of  marching  to  the  place  of  execu- 
tion, he  remembered  that  he  had  left  some  sweets 
under  his  pillow;  he  returned  for  them  and  divided 


8o  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

them  among  the  soldiers,  who  were  to  shoot  him." 
At  seven  in  the  morning  he  was  taken  to  a  place 
behind  the  hospital,  where  the  sentence  was  exe- 
cuted; he  did  not  die  at  the  first  discharge,  but 
after  falling  to  the  ground  received  numerous  bul- 
lets. His  body  found  sepulchre  in  the  Chapel  of 
San  Antonio  of  the  Convent  o£  San  Francisco,  and 
his  head  and  those  of  Allende,  Aldama  and  Jimé- 
nez were  carried  to  Guanajuato  and  placed  in  cages 
of  iron  at  each  one  of  the  corners  of  the  Albón- 
diga* of  Granaditas,  where  they  remained  until* 
1 82 1,  when  they  were  taken  to  the  Ermita  de  San 
Sebastian.  On  the  door  of  the  Albóndiga,  by 
order  of  the  Intendant,  Fernando  Pérez  Marañón, 
the  following  inscription  was  placed : 

"  The  heads  of  Miguel  Hidalgo,  Ignacio  Al- 
lende, Juan  Aldama,  and  Mariano  Jiménez,  noto- 
rious deceivers  and  leaders  of  the  revolution;  they 
sacked  and  stole  the  treasures  of  God's  worship 
and  of  the  royal  treasury;  they  shed,  with  the  great- 
est atrocity,  the  blood  of  faithful  priests  and  just 
magistrates;  and,  they  were  the  cause  of  all  the 
disasters,  misfortunes,  and  calamities  which  we 
here  experience  and  which  afflict,  and  are  deplored 
by,  all  the  inhabitants  of  this,  so  integral,  part  of 
the  Spanish  nation. 

"  Placed  here  by  order  of  the  Señor  Brigadier, 
Felix  Maria  Calleja  del  Rey,  illustrious  conqueror 
of  Acúleo,  Guanajuato  and  Calderón,  and  Restorer 

*  Public  granary. 


JULIO   ZARATE.  8  I 

of  the  Peace  in  this  America.     Guanajuato,  14  of 
October,  18 11." 

But,  the  hour  of  reparation,  though  tardy,  ar- 
rived; one  of  the  first  acts  of  the  independent  and 
liberated  nation  was  to  consecrate  the  memory  of 
its  martyrs  and  to  reward  the  efforts  of  its  loyal 
sons,  and  on  the  thirteenth  anniversary  of  the 
glorious  Grito  de  Dolores  (The  Cry  of  Dolores, 
¡.  e.,  the  motto  of  independence)  the  heads  of  Hi- 
dalgo, Allende,  Aldama,  and  Jiménez,  slowly 
become  fleshless  in  the  cages  of  Granaditas,  and 
their  other  remains  buried  in  the  humble  cemetery 
of  Chihuahua,  were  received  with  solemn  pomp  at 
the  Capital  city  and  a  grateful  people  bore  them  to 
rest  forever  in  the  magnificent  sepulchre,  before 
destined  for  the  Spanish  viceroys;  the  names  of 
those  heroes  and  of  other  eminent  leaders,  were 
inscribed  in  letters  of  gold  in  the  Hall  of  Congress, 
and  those  of  all  will  remain  in  indestructible  char- 
acters in  Mexican  hearts. 

GENERAL  NICOLAS  BRAVO. 

Still  fresh  the  laurels  just  gained  in  San  Agustin, 
the  valiant  youth  proceeded  to  the  province  which 
had  been  assigned  to  him  as  the  seat  of  his  cam- 
paign, and  early  in  September  advanced  with  three 
thousand  men  to  Medellin,  after  attacking  a  Roy- 
alist convoy  at  the  Puente  del  Rey  and  taking 
ninety   prisoners   of  the   troops  that  guarded   it. 


82  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

There  Bravo  was  to  cover  himself  with  an  immor- 
tal glory,  without  counterpart  In  history. 

His  father,  General  Leonardo  Bravo,  since  the 
month  of  May  prisoner  of  the  Royalists,  had  been 
condemned  to  death  in  Mexico  —  and  to  the  same 
fate  were  destined  José  María  Piedras  and  Lu- 
ciano Pérez,  apprehended  at  the  same  time,  after 
the  sally  from  Cuautla.  The  viceroy  had  sus- 
pended the  execution  of  the  sentence,  in  the  hope 
that  the  prisoner  might  Influence  his  sons,  Nicolás 
and  his  brothers,  to  desert  the  files  of  the  Indepen- 
dents and  to  ask  for  pardon,  under  which  condition 
he  offered  him  his  life.  But  the  youthful  leader, 
although  authorized  by  Morelos  to  save  his  father 
by  accepting  the  pardon  offered  by  the  viceroyal 
government,  believed  he  ought  not  to  trust  in  the 
pledges  given,  since  he  remembered  that  some  time 
before,  the  brothers  Orduiias  were  victims  of  the 
Royalist  Colonel  José  Antonio  Andrade,  who  had 
promised  them  pardon  but,  when  he  had  them  In 
his  power,  commanded  their  execution. 

Morelos  then  wrote  to  the  viceroy,  Vanegas, 
offering  the  surrender  of  eight  hundred  prisoners, 
mostly  Spanish,  as  the  price  of  Leonardo  Bravo's 
life.  The  viceroyal  government.  In  turn,  refused 
this  proposition  and  on  September  13,  18 12,  Gen- 
eral Bravo  and  his  fellow  prisoners.  Piedras  and 
Pérez,  suffered.  In  Mexico,  the  penalty  of  the  gar- 
rote,  the  former  displaying.  In  his  last  moments, 
that  calm  and  valor,   of  which  he  had  given  so 


JULIO   ZARATE.  83 

many  proofs  in  battle.  In  communicating  this  sad 
news  to  Nicolás  Bravo,  Morelos  ordered  him  to 
put  all  the  Spanish  prisoners  he  held  —  some  three 
hundred  in  number  —  to  the  knife.  Let  us  hear 
the  hero  himself  narrate  his  noble  action,  with  the 
simplicity  of  one  of  Plutarch's  characters: 

"  In  effect,  he  said  to  me  in  the  proposition  made 
to  me  in  Cuernavaca,  that  the  Viceroy  Vanegas 
offered  me  amnesty  and  the  life  of  my  father,  if  I 
would  yield  myself.  .  .  .  When  Morelos 
was  in  Tehuacan  he  appointed  me  General-in-chief 
of  the  forces,  which  were  operating  in  the  province 
of  Vera  Cruz.  ...  I  commenced  to  fight 
him  (Labaqui)  and,  after  an  action  lasting  forty- 
eight  hours,  gained  a  complete  victory,  mailing 
two  hundred  prisoners,  whom  I  sent  under  escort 
to  the  province  of  Vera  Cruz,  and  returned  with  all 
my  wounded  to  Tehuacan  to  give  account  of  the 
action  of  arms  confided  to  me.  In  the  interview 
which  I  had  with  Morelos,  he  told  me  that  he  was 
about  to  send  a  communication  to  the  viceroy, 
Vanegas,  offering  him,  for  my  father's  life,  eight 
hundred  Spanish  prisoners,  and  that  he  would  in- 
form me  of  the  result.  I  immediately  returned  to 
the  Province  of  Vera  Cruz,  where,  five  days  after 
leaving  Tehuacan,  I  had  another  favorable  action 
near  Puente  Nacional,  attacking  a  convoy,  which 
was  proceeding  to  Jalapa  with  supplies;  T  took 
ninety  prisoners  and  betook  mvsclf  to  Medcllin, 
where   I   established   my   headquarters   and    from 


84  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

where  I  threatened  the  city  of  Vera  Cruz,  with  the 
three  thousand  men  who  were  under  my  command. 
After  a  few  days  Morelos  notified  me  that  the 
proposition  which  he  had  made  to  the  viceroy  had 
not  been  accepted  and  that  he  (the  viceroy)  had, 
on  the  contrary,  commanded  that  my  father  be 
put  to  the  garrote  and  that  he  was  already  dead; 
he  commanded  me  at  the  same  time  to  order  that 
all  the  Spanish  prisoners  in  my  power  be  put  to  the 
knife,  and  informed  me  that  he  had  ordered  the 
same  to  be  done  with  the  four  hundred,  who  were 
in  Zacatula  and  other  points;  I  received  this  notice 
at  four  In  the  afternoon  and  it  moved  me  so  much 
that  I  commanded  the  nearly  three  hundred  that  I 
had  at  Medellin  to  prepare  for  death  and  ordered 
the  chaplain  (a  monk  named  Sotomayor)  to  aid 
them;  but  during  the  night,  not  being  able  to  sleep, 
I  reflected,  that  the  reprisals  I  was  about  to  prac- 
tice would  greatly  diminish  the  credit  of  the  cause 
which  I  defended,  and  that  by  adopting  a  conduct 
contrary  to  the  viceroy's  I  would  secure  better  re- 
sults, an  idea  which  pleased  me  far  more  than  my 
first  resolution;  then  there  presented  itself  the  diffi- 
culty of  palliating  my  disobedience  to  the  order  I 
had  received,  if  I  carried  my  resolve  into  effect; 
with  these  thoughts,  I  occupied  myself  the  whole 
night  until  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  I 
resolved  to  pardon  them  in  a  public  manner,  which 
should  produce  the  desired  effects  in  favor  of  the 
cause  of  independence;  with  this  end  in  view,  I 


JULIO    ZARATE.  85 

withheld  my  decision  until  eight  in  the  morning, 
when  I  ordered  my  troops  to  draw  up  in  the  form 
usual  in  cases  of  execution;  the  prisoners  were 
brought  out  and  placed  in  the  centre,  where  I  in- 
formed them  that  the  viceroy,  Vanegas,  had 
exposed  them  to  death  that  day,  in  not  having 
accepted  the  proposition  made  in  their  favor  for 
the  life  of  my  father,  whom  he  had  given  to  the 
garrote  in  the  Capital;  that  I,  not  caring  to  parallel 
such  conduct,  had  determined,  not  only  to  spare 
their  lives  for  the  moment,  but  to  give  them  entire 
freedom  to  go  where  they  pleased.  To  this,  filled 
with  joy  they  replied,  that  no  one  desired  to  leave, 
that  all  remained  at  the  service  of  my  division, 
which  they  did,  with  the  exception  of  five  mer- 
chants of  Vera  Cruz,  who  on  account  of  business 
interests  were  given  passports  for  that  city;  among 
these  was  a  Senor  Madariaga  who,  afterward,  in 
union  with  his  companions,  sent  me,  in  apprecia- 
tion, the  gift  of  sufficient  cloth  to  make  clothing 
for  a  full  battalion." 

Never,  in  past  times  nor  in  modern  ages,  could 
history  record  in  its  pages  so  noble  an  action;  and 
never  has  human  magnanimity  expressed  its  lofty 
deeds  with  more  sublime  simplicitv  than  that  of  the 
Mexican  hero  in  the  document,  which  wc  have  just 
copied.  In  the  midst  of  that  war  of  extermina- 
tion, Bravo  displays  the  noble  sentiment  of  forgive- 
ness as  a  supreme  protest  of  humanity  whose  laws 
were  being  disregarded  and  trampled  under  foot; 
he  condemns  the  barbarous  system  of  reprisals;  he 


86  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

teaches  the  conquerors,  who  immolated  without 
exception  so  many  prisoners  as  fell  into  their  hands, 
to  respect  the  life  of  the  conquered;  in  contrast  to 
Venegas,  Calleja,  Cruz  (Alaman's  hero) ,  Trujillo, 
Llano,  Porlier,  Castillo  Bustamente,  and  so  many 
others,  stained  with  Mexican  blood  and  thirsting 
for  vengeance,  he  presents  the  spotless  figure  of  the 
patriot  giving  life  and  liberty  to  the  prisoners  in 
his  power;  and,  he  does  this  when  he  knows  that 
his  noble  father,  after  a  prolonged  captivity,  has 
succumbed  under  a  punishment  reserved  for  thieves 
and  assassins;  and  he  forgives,  when  his  feared 
and  respected  leader  orders  him  to  punish.  He 
restrains  his  great  grief  and  in  the  reflections  to 
which  he  yields  himself,  on  the  receipt  of  that 
order,  he  does  not  think  of  the  blood  of  his  father, 
yet  warm ;  he  thinks  only  of  his  country's  Interests, 
he  believes  that  the  reprisals  which  he  is  ordered 
to  practice  zvill  greatly  diminish  the  credit  of  the 
cause  of  independence  and  that,  by  observing  a 
conduct  contrary  to  that  of  the  viceroy,  he  ivould 
secure  better  results;  he  encounters  but  the  one  diffi- 
culty that  he  cannot  palliate  his  responsibility  in 
disobeying  the  order  which  he  has  received;  and, 
after  meditating  all  night,  he  resolves  to  pardon 
the  prisoners  in  a  public  manner,  in  order  that  the 
pardon  may  secure  all  the  good  results  desirable  in 
favor  of  the  cause  of  independence.  Bravo,  on 
that  day,  conquered,  for  his  country,  titles  of  uni- 
versal respect  and  rehabilitated  human  dignity  in 
that  period  of  unbridled  cruelty. 


JOSE    MARIA    VIGIL. 


87 


JOSE  MARIA  VIGIL. 


/#*S^, 


V^ 


iftfi 


José  María  Vigil  was  born  October  11,  1829, 
at  Guadalajara.  Early  left  an  orphan,  during  the 
period  of  his  education  he  was  in  straitened  cir- 
cumstances. He  attended  the  seminario  in  Guad- 
alajara and  studied  law  in  the  university  of  that 
city,  but  failed  to  secure  his  degree,  on  account  of 
his  Liberal  views.  He  began  literary  work  in 
1849,  and  in  1851  his  drama,  Dolores  ó  una 
pasión  (Dolores,  or  a  passion),  was  well  received 


88  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

at  the  Teatro  Principal,  at  Guadalajara.  In  1857 
he  published  a  collection  of  his  poems,  under  the 
title  Realidades  y  Quimeras  (Realities  and  Chi- 
meras). In  1866  he  published  two  volumes  of 
verse  and  drama  —  Flores  de  Anahuac  (Flowers 
of  Anahuac).  These  writings  were  varied  in 
style,  and  included  original  compositions  and  trans- 
lations from  Latin,  French,  English,  Portuguese, 
Italian,  and  German.  Through  this  period.  Vigil 
also  edited  literary  periodicals  —  La  Aurora  Po- 
ética (The  Poetic  Dawn),  and  La  Mariposa  (The 
Butterfly) . 

Señor  Vigil's  political  career  began  in  1855, 
when  Comonfort  occupied  the  Plaza  of  Guadala- 
jara. With  other  youths.  Vigil  then  began  the 
publication  of  La  Revolución  (The  Revolution), 
in  which  were  expounded  the  Ideas  of  the  later 
Constitution  of  the  Reform.  From  then,  on 
through  the  period  of  the  Interv^ention,  he  led  an 
active  public  life,  writing  and  editing,  and  in  other 
ways  of  fearlessly  working  for  democratic  princi- 
ples. On  December  31,  1863,  he  retired  as  the 
French  entered  Guadalajara,  and  sought  a  refuge 
in  San  Francisco,  California,  where  he  edited  El 
Nuevo  Mundo  (The  New  World),  devoted  to  the 
cause  he  loved.  In  1865  poverty  compelled  him 
to  return  to  Guadalajara.  There  he  might  have 
received  desirable  public  appointments,  had  he 
been  willing  to  receive  aught  from  the  Imperial 
government.     He   conducted   an   opposition    and 


JOSÉ   MARÍA   VIGIL.  89 

patriotic  publication,  which  was  more  than  once 
suppressed. 

Since  the  Restoration,  Vigil  has  filled  many  and 
important  public  posts.  Passing  to  the  City  of 
Mexico,  about  1870,  he  has  been,  repeatedly,  a 
member  of  the  House  of  Deputies,  always  stand- 
ing for  radical  democratic  ideas.  He  has  done 
much  journalistic  work;  has  pronounced  discourses, 
served  in  judicial  capacities,  has  edited  important 
works,  and  has  sen'^ed  many  years  as  an  educator. 
He  founded  La  Biblioteca  Mexicana  (The  Mex- 
ican Library)  in  which  appear  the  important  works 
of  Las  Casas,  and  Tezozomoc,  and  the  Códice 
Ramirez.  He  has  been  Professor  of  Logic  in  the 
Escuela  Nacional  Preparatoria.  For  many  years 
past,  and  at  present,  he  is  the  Librarian  of  the 
National  Library  of  Mexico.  He  is  a  member 
of  all  the  important  literary  and  scientific  societies, 
among  them  the  Sociedad  Mexicana  de  Geografia 
y  Estadistica  and  the  Liceo  Hidals^o.  When,  in 
1 88 1,  the  Mexican  Academy  increased  its  mem- 
bership to  fifteen,  by  the  addition  of  one  new  chair, 
Señor  Vigil  was  the  unanimous  choice  of  the  acad- 
emicians. He  is  now  the  secretary  of  that  organ- 
ization. 

Señor  Vigil  is  the  author  of  volume  five  of  the 
great  historical  work,  Mexico  á  través  de  los  Sij^;- 
los  (Mexico  through  the  Centuries),  treating  of 
the  period  of  La  Reforma  (The  Reform).  Our 
selection  is  taken  from  this  work. 


90  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

THE   DEATH    OF   MAXIMILIAN. 

Meantime  the  trial  of  the  prisoners  followed  its 
course  in  Queretaro  and,  on  the  13th,  at  eight 
in  the  morning,  the  council  of  war  met  In  the 
theatre  of  Iturbide,  under  the  presidency  of  Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel Platón  Sánchez,  the  judges  being 
Commandant-Captain  José  Vicente  Ramirez,  Com- 
mandant-Captain Emilio  Lojero,  Captain  Ignacio 
Jurado,  Captain  Juan  Rueda  y  Auza,  Captain  José 
Verástegui  and  Captain  Lucas  Vlllagrán.  Maxi- 
milian excused  himself  from  attendance  on  account 
of  Illness;  the  whole  of  the  defense  was  read  and, 
at  eight  o'clock  at  night,  the  council  adjourned  to 
meet  again  the  next  day.  On  the  14th,  at  half- 
past-twelve  the  trial  ended  after  the  prosecutor 
had  presented  the  rebuttal,  in  which  death  was 
demanded,  and  the  defenders  had  replied.  It  was 
easy  to  guess  what  the  sentence  would  be  and  the 
associate  defenders,  who  were  in  San  Luis  Potosí, 
hastened  to  direct  to  the  President  a  second  state- 
ment begging  the  pardon,  a  petition  which  was 
repeated  on  the  i6th,  on  learning  that  the  sentence 
had  been  confirmed  by  the  General-in-Chief.  The 
following  reply  of  the  President,  communicated 
through  the  Minister  of  War,  took  the  last  hope 
from  the  defenders:  "  Having  examined  this  ap- 
peal for  pardon  and  the  others  of  a  similar  kind 
which  have  been  presented  to  him  with  all  the  care 
which  the  gravity  of  the  case  demands,  the  Presi- 


JOSE    MARIA    VIGIL.  9 1 

dent  of  the  Republic  has  decided  that  he  cannot 
accede  to  them,  since  the  gravest  considerations  of 
justice  and  the  necessity  of  safeguarding  the  peace 
of  the  nation  oppose  themselves  to  this  act  of  clem- 
ency." At  the  same  time  the  Minister  sent  a  tele- 
gram to  General  Escobedo,  in  which  he  told  him 
that  it  had  been  decided  that  the  execution  should 
not  take  place  until  the  morning  of  the  19th,  in 
order  that  the  sentenced  might  have  time  for  the 
arrangement  of  their  affairs.  General  Miramon's 
wife  arrived  at  San  Luis,  in  these  moments,  to  see 
if  she  could  save  the  life  of  her  husband;  but  Jua- 
rez refused  to  see  her,  saying  to  the  lawyers  of  the 
defense:  "  Spare  me  this  painful  Interview,  which, 
considering  the  irrevocable  nature  of  the  decision, 
would  but  cause  the  lady  much  suffering."  Fi- 
nally, when  Señores  Riva  Palacios  and  Martinez 
de  la  Torre  were  parting  from  the  President  of  the 
Republic,  he  said  to  them :  *'  In  fulfilling  your  duty 
as  defenders,  you  have  suffered  much  by  the  inflex- 
ibility of  the  government.  Today  you  cannot 
understand  the  necessity  of  this  nor  the  justice 
which  supports  it.  The  appreciation  of  this  Is 
reserved  to  the  future.  The  law  and  the  sentence 
are,  at  this  time,  inexorable,  because  the  public  wel- 
fare demands  it.  It  also  may  counsel  us  to  the 
least  bloodshed,  and  this  will  be  the  greatest  pleas- 
ure of  my  life." 

The    legal    resources    exhausted,    the    plan    of 
escape,  devised  by  the  Princess  Salm-Salm,  in  col- 


92  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

lusion  with  the  Ministers  of  Austria,  Belgium,  and 
Italy  and  the  French  Consul,  frustrated;  the  pris- 
oners waited,  with  resignation,  until  the  terrible 
moment  should  arrive  in  which  the  sentence  was 
to  be  executed.  The  last  letters  and  dispositions 
written  by  Maximilian  and  Miramon  show  that 
their  natural  valor  did  not  abandon  them  in  those 
supreme  moments.  Mejia  wrote  nothing;  but  in 
the  mental  depression  in  which  the  disease  from 
which  he  was  suffering  submerged  him,  he  main- 
tained that  tranquil  stoicism,  which  marked  his 
temperament. 

On  the  19th,  at  six  in  the  morning,  a  division  of 
four  thousand  men  under  command  of  General 
Jesús  Diaz  de  León  formed  at  the  foot  of  the 
Cerro  de  las  Campanas,  on  the  northeast  slope. 
Maximilian,  Miramon,  and  Mejia  arrived  at  about 
a  quarter  past  seven,  brought  in  carriages,  and 
each  one  accompanied  by  a  priest.  Maximilian 
descended  first  and  said  courteously  to  his  compan- 
ions in  misfortune :  "  Let  us  go,  gentlemen,"  and 
the  three  directed  themselves  with  firm  step  to  the 
place  of  execution,  where  they  gave  each  other  a 
farewell  embrace.  Maximilian  then  advanced 
and  distributed  twenty-peso  gold  pieces  among  the 
soldiers,  who  were  to  shoot  him,  and  then,  raising 
his  voice,  said :  "  I  am  about  to  die  for  a  just  cause, 
the  liberty  and  independence  of  Mexico.  May 
my  blood  seal  the  unhappiness  of  mv  new  country. 
Viva  Mexico !  "     Miramon  read  the  following  in 


JOSE    MARIA    VIGIL.  93 

a  loud  voice:  "  Mexicans!  in  the  council  of  war, 
my  defenders  attempted  to  save  my  life;  here,  soon 
to  lose  it,  and  about  to  appear  before  God,  I  pro- 
test against  the  stigma  of  traitor  which  they  have 
tried  to  put  upon  me  to  palliate  my  sacrifice.  I  die 
innocent  of  that  crime,  and  I  forgive  its  authors, 
hoping  that  God  may  pardon  me  and  that  my  com- 
patriots will  remove  so  foul  a  stigma  from  my 
sons,  doing  me  justice.  Viva  Mexico!  "  Placing 
himself  on  the  spot  indicated,  Maximilian,  who 
had  asked  that  his  face  might  not  be  disfigured, 
separated  his  beard  with  his  hands,  to  one  side  and 
the  other,  exposing  his  chest;  Miramon  said, 
"  here,"  indicating  his  heart  and  raising  his  head; 
and  Mejia,  who  had  given  the  soldiers  charged 
with  his  execution  an  ounce  of  gold  to  divide  be- 
tween them,  said  never  a  word  but  merely  laid 
by  the  cnicifix,  which  he  held  in  his  hand,  on  seeing 
that  they  were  aiming  at  him.  The  signal  to  fire 
was  given  and  a  discharge  put  an  end  to  the  bloody 
drama  of  the  Empire  in  Mexico,  which  was  so 
fatal  for  its  authors  and  for  its  partisans. 


94 


MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 


PRIMO  FELICIANO  VELÁSQUEZ. 


Primo  Feliciano  Velasquez  was  born  at  Santa 
Maria  del  Rio  in  the  state  of  San  Luis  Potosí,  June 
6,  i860.  Before  he  was  nine  years  of  age,  on 
account  of  promise  shown  in  the  school-room,  he 
was  taken  in  hand  by  the  village  priest,  whc  taught 
him  Latin  and  later  secured  for  him  admittance  to 
the  Seminario  Conciliar  at  the  capital  city  of  San 
Luis  Potosí.  He  was  a  diligent  student  and  com- 
pleted his  study  of  law  on  October  23,  1880, 
Although  his  legal  career  opened  auspiciously,  he 


PRIMO    FELICIANO    VELASQUEZ.  95 

preferred  to  devote  himself  to  journalism.  In 
1883  he  founded,  at  San  Luis  Potosí,  a  publication 
intended  to  promote  the  celebration  of  the  Iturbide 
centennial,  through  which  he  established  a  stand- 
ing among  the  eminent  literary  men  of  Mex- 
ico. In  1885,  in  company  with  several  others, 
he  established  El  Estandarte  (The  Standard), 
a  periodical  bitterly  opposed  to  the  State  Gov- 
ernment, which  caused  him  many  vexations  and 
penalties.  Velasquez  has  made  a  special  study 
of  local  history  and  archaeology.  His  Descu- 
brimiento y  Conquista  de  San  Luis  Potosí  (Dis- 
covery and  Conquest  of  San  Luis  Potosí), 
received  recognition  from  the  Royal  Spanish 
Academy.  Ills  Instrucción  pública  en  San  Luis 
Potosí  durante  la  Dominación  española  (Pub- 
lic Instruction  in  San  Luis  Potosí  during  the  Span- 
ish Domination)  was  published  in  the  memoirs  of 
the  Mexican  Academy,  of  which  he  has  been  a 
correspondent  since  1886.  His  Colección  de  Doc- 
umentos para  la  historia  de  San  Luis  Potosí  (Col- 
lection of  documents  for  the  History  of  San  Luis 
Potosí)  in  four  volumes,  was  published  between 
1897  and  1899.  Senor  Velasquez  has  during 
recent  years  returned  to  the  practice  of  law. 

THE  TLAXCALAN  SETTLEMENTS. 

In  this  year  of   ii;89,  in  which  peace  was  ar- 
ranged,   Santa    Maria    del    Rio    was    founded    by 


()6  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

Guachichiles  and  Otomis  on  lands  of  the  Hacienda 
of  Villela  and  at  a  place  called  San  Diego  de  Ato- 
tonilco.  Of  the  villages  of  our  State,  this  one  and 
Tierra  Nueva  count  among  their  founders  indi- 
viduals of  Otomi  stock.  The  other  colonies  estab- 
lished were  formed  with  Indians  brought  from 
Tlaxcala,  either  because  that  city  was  populous,  or 
because  of  its  relative  culture,  or  —  what  is  more 
probable  —  because  of  Its  unshakeable  loyalty  to 
the  Spaniards.  It  is  asserted  that  four  hundred 
families  set  out  from  the  ancient  republic  for  these 
parts,  by  order  of  the  Viceroy,  Don  Luis  de  Ve- 
lasco  II  (1591),  and  with  the  aid  of  Friar 
Jerónimo  Mendieta.  Friars  Ignacio  de  Car- 
denas and  Jerónimo  de  Zarate  brought  them 
and  distributed  them  in  Tlaxcalilla  —  on  the 
outskirts  of  this  city  of  San  Luis,  close  by 
the  congregation  of  Santiago,  which  was  of 
Guachichiles  —  In  San  Miguel,  Mexqultic,  Ve- 
nado, San  Andrés,  Colotlan,  and  Saltillo,  It 
can  easily  be  believed  that  these  colonists  would 
not  readily  consent  to  abandon  their  soil  and  come 
to  such  a  distance  to  serve  as  a  protection  against 
barbarians  and  as  a  guarantee  of  their  obedience. 
Far  from  It;  they  stipulated  that  they  should  enjoy 
the  same  privileges  as  If  they  were  noble-born  Cas- 
tilllans;  that  they  should  go  on  horse  and  bear 
arms;  and  that  their  towns,  in  which  no  Spaniards 
were  to  live,  should  measure  three  leagues  on  each 
side. 


PRIMO    FELICIANO    VELASQUEZ.  97 

ANDRES  DE  OLMOS. 

God,  who  holds  aloft  with  his  right  hand  a 
torch  to  light  the  way  of  his  creatures  and  to  fruc- 
tify, in  the  very  field  of  death,  the  germs  of  life; 
behind  the  bearded  divinities  with  dress  of  steel 
and  armed  with  thunderbolts;  from  the  region  of 
light,  the  east,  that  they  might  anoint  with  the  oil 
of  charity,  the  victims  of  greed,  and  resuscitate  for 
Heaven  those  dead  for  the  world,  sent  the  friars, 
shorn  and  shaven,  unshod,  clad  in  saci<.cloth,  with 
no  shield  but  their  faith,  with  no  weapon  but  the 
Gospel.  Among  these  was  that  notable  man,  who 
wandered  through  the  whole  Huasteca,  while  the 
Guachichiles  still  obstinately  fought  their  fierce 
battles;  so  wise  was  he  that,  besides  his  miracle- 
play  of  The  Last  Judjj^wcnt  and  Conversations, 
Sermons,  and  Tractates,  all  written  in  Aztec,  he 
left  grammars  and  vocabularies. of  that  language 
and  of  the  Totonaco  and  Huastec,  as  well  as  many 
other  books  for  the  instruction  and  admiration  of 
missionaries,  philologists  and  historians;  so  poor, 
that,  when  he  died,  there  was  nought  but  a  rosary, 
some  beads,  a  disciplina  *  and  a  cilicio, i  left  to 
his  hosts  in  token  of  gratitude;  so  temperate,  that 
he  did  not  in  the  least  seek  those  things  which  the 
appetite  naturally  desires,  nor  took  pleasure  in 
them,   but   ate  whatever  was  placed  before   him, 

•  A  scoiirRc. 

t  A  band  or  strip  of  wire  netting  with  sliarp  [loints,  to  l)c  boiinil  upon 
the  body   for  self-torture. 


98  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

although  bad  in  savor  and  smell;  so  strong  that, 
after  bearing  a  heavy  weight  of  years,  going  on 
foot  through  wastes  and  wilds,  in  a  trying  climate, 
without  any  kind  of  comfort, —  not  only  did  he 
not  choose  to  accept  the  rest  and  shelter  which  his 
brethren  urged  upon  him,,  when  they  saw  him  old, 
asthmatic,  insect-bitten  to  the  degree  that  he  looked 
like  a  leper,  but,  glorying  in  his  natural  strong 
constitution,  again  betook  himself  to  the  moun- 
tains where  the  warlike  Chichimecs  had  their 
strongholds,  to  preach  to  them  for  the  last  time, 
in  the  name  of  the  Crucified,  a  gospel  of  obedience 
and  peace. 

Already  you  know,  gentlemen,  that  I  speak  of 
the  friar,  Andres  de  Olmos,  companion  of  the 
venerable  Zumárraga. 

MARTYRS  TO  THE  FAITH. 

In  the  New,  as  in  the  Old,  World,  in  the  deserts 
as  in  the  cities,  in  the  mountains  as  in  the  plains, 
the  Gospel, —  light  and  truth,  refreshment,  hope 
and  delight  at  once, —  has  to  subjugate  all  peoples, 
to  soften  the  fierce  and  uncultured  and  to  reduce 
to  peace,  order,  and  progress,  whatever  may  be 
the  language  in  which  it  be  announced.  By  divine 
arrangement  the  doorposts  must  be  marked  with 
blood,  with  blood  of  innocent  victims,  gentle  and 
pure,  that  the  avenging  angel  may  pass  by  and  not 
wet  his  sword  with  the  blood  of  the  first-born. 


PRIMO    FELICIANO   VELASQUEZ.  99 

Thus,  in  the  northeast,  four  leagues  from  Zacate- 
cas, a  little  after  the  year  1556,  kneeling  and  with 
the  crucifix  In  his  hand.  Friar  Juan  de  Tapia 
yielded  his  blood  to  the  sharp  arrows  of  the 
Guachlchiles;  thus,  Friar  Juan  Cerrato  shed  his 
blood  at  the  hands  of  the  pagans,  to  whom  he  came 
from  Jalisco,  that  he  might  raise  them  from  their 
rude  condition  and  bring  them  to  a  knowledge 
of  their  Creator  and  to  the  bosom  of  the  Holy 
Catholic  Church;  thus,  the  friars,  Francisco  Don- 
cel and  Pedro  de  Burgos  inundated  with  their  red 
life-fluid  the  deep  gorge  of  Chamacuero,  where, 
fierce  as  tigers,  the  Chichimecs  hurled  themselves 
upon  them. 

Father  Doncel  was  returning  from  Patzcuaro 
with  Friar  Pedro,  carrying  a  crucifix  which  he  had 
ordered  made  for  the  Villa  of  San  Felipe,  of  the 
convent  of  which  he  was  guardian.  Looking  to 
the  security  of  the  image,  they  came  accompanied 
by  soldiers;  but,  as  these  fled  at  the  moment  of 
attack  by  the  Indians,  they  left  the  holy  monks 
abandoned  and  helpless.  As  was  his  duty  in  such 
a  crisis,  Father  Doncel  knelt  and,  raising  the  cruci- 
fix aloft,  lifted  up  his  voice  in  prayer.  Devoted 
to  their  sublime  mission,  both  the  friars  suffered 
death  from  the  furious  rage  of  the  savages,  which, 
not  content  with  blood  and  with  stripping  off  the 
garments  to  deck  itself  in  them,  ami  to  run  races 
thus  garbed,  uttering  beast  cries,  sawed  off  the 
heads,  tore  off  the  skull  caps,  and  wore  them,  to 


lOO  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

make  display  of  its  triumph.  That  image  of  Jesus 
is  still  venerated  in  San  Felipe,  under  the  name  of 
the  Señor  de  la  Conquista;  and  that  gorge  in  which 
these  monks  perished  is  still  called  the  Arroyo  de 
los  Mártires  (Gorge  of  the  Martyrs). 

Near  by,  at  four  leagues  distance  from 
Colotlan,  is  the  spot  where  Friar  Luis  de  Villalo- 
bos sealed  by  a  glorious  death,  in  1582,  the  doc- 
trine which  he  taught  the  heathen;  not  far  distant 
is  where  Friar  Andrés  de  la  Puebla  was  cruelly 
beaten,  in  1586,  and  the  skin  was  torn  off  his  head, 
from  the  eyebrows  upward,  while  he  was  denounc- 
ing idolatry  and  intoning  the  divine  praises.  Ours, 
is  that  land  of  Charcas,  where  also  suffered  mar- 
tyrdom, the  friar,  Juan  del  Rio,  brother  of  the 
general  of  that  name,  who  made  the  final  cam- 
paign against  the  Chichimecs.  One  day  in  1586, 
when  the  Spaniards  had  sallied  from  the  town,  a 
body  of  Indians  attacked  it  and  stole  the  cattle. 
The  only  two  soldiers,  whom  they  had  left  on 
guard,  started  in  pursuit;  shortly  after,  the  friar 
followed  them  on  horse,  believing  the  robbers 
would  respect  his  presence.  When  he  arrived 
where  they  were  he  saw  that  one  soldier  was  dead 
and  that  the  other  was  in  imminent  peril.  He  be- 
sought his  enemies  to  calm  themselves  and  hear 
him,  and  did  not  cease  to  speak  even  when  a  rain 
of  arrows  fell  upon  him,  striking  him  in  every  part 
of  the  body.  Reason  enough  was  there  for  the 
astonishment   of    the    assassins,    for    the    arrows, 


PRIMO    FELICIANO    VELASQUEZ.  10 1 

though  many  and  well  directed,  made  no  impres- 
sion —  he  held  himself  well  on  his  horse  and  con- 
tinued speaking.  The  Indians  then  aimed  at  his 
head  and,  with  three  or  four  shots,  brought  him  to 
the  ground.  What  think  you  was  the  cause  of  his 
apparent  invulnerability?  To  find  out,  the  bar- 
barians, running  up  to  examine  the  body,  despoiled 
it  of  clothing  and  found  an  immense  cilicio,  an  iron 
network  supplied  with  iron  points  inside,  which 
constantly  tore  the  flesh  of  the  penitent  friar. 

DIEGO  ORDONEZ. 

What  do  you  admire  in  the  great  navigator, 
whose  fortunate  discov^ery  two  hemispheres  are 
now  preparing  to  celebrate?  His  wisdom?  his 
valor?  his  boldness?  While  he  possessed  all  these 
in  heroic  grade,  it  is  surely  not  these  which,  in  him, 
captivate  us,  but  his  faith,  his  marvelous  faith, 
which  sustained  him  erect  and  firm  in  the  midst  of 
innumerable  obstacles,  betrayed  by  treachery, 
mocked  and  harassed  by  adverse  fortune,  and  he 
held  it  against  machinations  and  dangers,  until  he 
planted  it  securely  in  the  land  of  his  dreams. 
Well,  of  this  same  faith,  which  caused  the  inspired 
mariner  to  triumph  over  enemies  and  obstacles  and 
the  mysterious  dangers  of  the  sea,  there  are  also 
found  examples  in  these,  our  regions,  which  ought 
not  to  be  held  unworthy  of  esteem  because  they 
are  buried  in  the  humble  chronicles  of  a  Province; 


102  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

for  even  thus,  in  solitude,  a  diamond  gleams  more 
brightly.  When  the  immortal  Genoese  entered 
the  service  of  Spain,  there  had  just  (1483)  taken 
the  Franciscan  habit  in  Salamanca,  a  youth  of  such 
precocity  that,  at  thirteen  years,  he  had  already 
graduated  in  philosophy.  At  sixteen,  dedicated  to 
the  study  of  theology,  he  made  such  progress  in 
this  science  and  in  Greek  and  Hebrew,  that,  with 
no  little  credit  to  his  order,  he  occupied  —  through 
many  years  —  the  professorship  in  his  convent, 
where,  as  is  well  known,  Columbus  found  a  more 
friendly  reception  than  among  the  proud  pro- 
fessors of  the  famous  university.  From  Guate- 
mala, whither  the  learned  teacher  went  in  1539 
to  occupy  himself  with  the  instruction  of  the  wild 
Indians,  he  passed  to  Mexico,  called  to  serve  as 
Consultor  to  the  Holy  Office.  The  snows  of  a 
hundred  winters  already  whitened  his  head,  but 
as  the  volcanoes  which  display  a  snowy  crown 
to  conceal  the  forge  where  are  smithed  their  glow- 
ing thunderbolts,  so  the  venerable  centennarian 
priest.  He  scarcely  tarried  at  the  vice-regal  court; 
like  a  flaming  arrow  he  went  to  Michoacan,  Za- 
catecas, and  Durango,  whose  inhabitants  enjoyed 
the  last  ministrations  of  the  philosopher,  theo- 
logian, humanist,  and  eminent  preacher,  whose 
name  was  Diego  Ordonez,  and  who,  at  one  hun- 
dred and  seventeen  years  of  age,  seated  in  a  chair 
because  he  could  not  stand,  died  in  Sombrerete, 
preaching  to  the  Indians  —  he  who  had  been  the 


PRIMO    FELICIANO    VELASQUEZ.  IO3 

pride  of  the  convent  at  Salamanca  and  the  vener- 
ated oracle  of  theologians  and  inquisitors. 

ANTONIO  DE  ROA. 

Two  methods  were  employed  by  him,  or  rather 
one  only,  in  converting  so  untamed  and  rude  a  peo- 
ple. No  one  is  ignorant,  that  in  New  Spain  the 
worship  of  the  Holy  Cross  has  ever  been  general. 
Be  the  mountain  beautiful  or  barren,  lofty  or  low, 
the  natives  were  accustomed  to  rear  a  cross  upon 
it.  Where  roads  forked  they  set  it  up,  and  also  in 
the  streets  and  plazas,  that  they  might  venerate  it 
at  every  step  and  bow  before  it.  With  greater 
reason,  therefore,  believed  Father  Roa,  ought  the 
sacred  emblem  to  be  multiplied  upon  the  rugged 
mountain  trails,  which,  at  first  glance,  had  so  much 
discouraged  him. 

But,  not  consenting  to  erect  it  in  spots,  where, 
before,  the  Indians  had  adored  their  idols,  he 
taught  them  to  honor  it  with  great  love  and  un- 
heard-of penances.  When  he  went  forth  from  his 
convent,  he  had  them  throw  about  his  neck  a  hal- 
ter, dragged  by  two  Indians;  thus,  with  quick  step, 
downcast  eyes,  in  tears,  with  ardent  groaning,  he 
went,  meditating  on  the  passion  of  the  Redeemer, 
until  he  reached  the  spot  where  stood  a  cross. 
Scarcely  knelt  before  it,  the  Indians,  who  accom- 
panied him  and  knew  his  orders,  buffeted  him,  spat 
upon   him,   and   cruelly  beat  him.     This   was   re- 


104  MODERN   MEXICAN  AUTHORS. 

peated  as  many  times  as  there  were  crosses  on  the 
way  —  and  there  were  many. 

When  It  is  stated  that  this  practice  was  constant 
and  but  the  beginning  of  each  day,  one  begins  to 
have  an  idea  of  the  examples,  which  he  set  to  the 
new  followers  of  Christ.  One  is  stupefied  to  read 
that,  arrived  at  the  village  he  preached  and  admin- 
istered the  sacraments,  then  waited  until  night  to 
make  a  general  flagellation,  which,  finished,  he  sal- 
lied from  the  church,  naked  from  the  waist  up  and 
barefoot,  with  a  halter  around  his  neck,  in  order 
to  walk  around  the  churchyard,  which  was  strewn 
with  glowing  brands.  One  can  hardly  believe  that 
his  strength  allowed  him  to  preach,  on  returning 
into  the  church,  a  sermon  upon  the  torments  of  hell 
and,  further,  that  after  all  this  he  endured  the  tor- 
ture of  boiling  water,  which  his  rough  followers 
threw  over  his  lacerated  body. 

Still  the  idea  of  the  sufferings,  which  he  added 
to  those,  today,  as  then,  inseparable  from  a  region 
so  wild  and  remote,  is  not  complete  until  we  know 
that,  in  Lent,  he  was  accustomed,  thrice  weekly,  to 
bathe  the  Hermita  of  Molango  with  his  blood. 
In  his  oratory  he  had  painted  the  Prayer  in  the 
Garden;  and  there,  after  his  long  prayers,  the  In- 
dians came  to  beat  him,  while  they  overwhelmed 
him  with  insults.  They  stripped  him  from  the 
waist  up  and  violently  tore  away  the  coarse  and 
rasping  cloth  which  was  bound  closely  to  his  flesh; 
they  threw  a  halter  about  his  neck  and,   in  this 


PRIMO    FELICIANO    VELASQUEZ.  IO5 

guise,  dragged  him  to  a  second  oratory  where  was 
painted  a  Magdalene  anointing  the  Lord's  feet. 
Placing  him  there  before  an  Indian  who,  seated  in 
his  tribunal,  represented  Divine  Justice,  they  ac- 
cused him  of  being  a  wicked  man,  an  ingrate, 
proud,  perverter,  and  false.  He  replied  nothing 
on  the  matter  to  the  questions  of  the  judge,  but, 
after  a  little  time,  confessed  his  sins,  ingratitude, 
and  faults,  In  a  loud  voice.  He  replied  as  little 
to  a  new  accusation,  made  against  him  with  false 
witnesses,  of  the  truth  of  which  the  judge  declared 
himself  convinced,  and  ordered  that  they  should 
beat  him  naked,  which  they  did,  thoroughly,  until 
the  blood  ran  down  upon  the  ground  from  his  raw 
and  quivering  body.  Afterward  they  kindled 
splinters  of  fat  pine,  with  the  sizzling  resin  of 
which  they  scorched  him  from  the  shoulders  to  the 
soles  of  his  feet,  and  lastly  they  laid  upon  him  a 
heavy  cross,  which  he  bore  In  a  procession  around 
the  enclosure  over  a  bed  of  glowing  coals. 


io6 


MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 


JUAN  F.  MOLINA  SOUS. 


Juan  F.  Molina  Soils,  representative  of  one  of 
the  oldest  and  most  respected  families  of  Yucatan, 
was  born  June  ii,  1850,  in  the  village  of  Hecel- 
chacan.  His  father  was  Juan  F.  Molina  Esquivel, 
his  mother  Cecilia  Solis  de  Molina.  In  1857,  the 
family  removed  to  Merida,  where  the  boy's  educa- 
tion was  carried  on.  He  received  the  degree  of 
Master  of  Arts  from  the  Seminario  conciliar  de 
San  Ildefonso,  after  which  he  studied  law,  graduat- 
ing in  1874.     He  has  ever  occupied  a  prominent 


JUAN    F.    MOLINA    SOLIS.  IO7 

position  in  Merida  as  a  successful  lawyer,  as  teacher 
in  the  Seminario,  as  professor  in  the  Law  School,  as 
journalist,  and  as  author.  In  literature  he  has 
largely  confined  himself  to  history  —  especially 
the  history  of  Yucatan.  His  Historia  del  Des- 
cubrimieulo  y  Conquista  de  Yucatan  con  una  reseña 
de  la  Historia  antiqua  de  esta  Peninsula  (History 
of  the  Discovery  and  Conquest  of  Yucatan  with  a 
Summary  of  the  Ancient  History  of  this  Penin- 
sula) is  a  standard  authority.  It  is  admirably 
written  and  is  marked  by  a  sober  criticism  and  con- 
stant reference  to  original  sources.  Besides  this, 
the  largest  and  most  important  work  that  he  has 
written,  we  may  mention  a  collection  of  polemical 
historical  articles  and  of  miscellaneous  editorials 
presented  under  the  general  title  El  Primer  Obispa- 
do de  la  Nación  Mejicana  (The  First  Bishopric  of 
the  Mexican  Nation)  and  an  interesting  historical 
sketch,  El  Conde  de  Peñalva  (The  Count  of 
Peñalva).  In  his  editorials  Señor  Molina  often 
discusses  matters  of  transcendant  importance  to  the 
nation.  While  extremely  conservative,  and  hence 
often  in  the  opposition,  his  writings  on  such  themes 
are  thoughtful,  candid,  just,  and  patriotic.  Among 
such  articles  are  some  treating  of  Representative 
Government,  The  Election  of  Deputies  and  Sena- 
tors to  the  Federal  Congress,  The  Commercial 
Treaty  Between  Mexico  and  the  United  States, 
etc.  The  passage  presented  here,  in  translation,  is 
a  chapter  from  El  Conde  de  Peñalva. 


I08  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

THE  HORRORS  OF  1 648  IN  YUCATAN. 

The  Count  could  not  arrive  at  a  more  unfortu- 
nate moment  nor  amid  conditions  sadder  than  those 
among  which  fate  decreed  his  coming  to  these 
shores.  The  situation  of  the  Peninsula  could  not 
be  more  sorrowful  or  calamitous.  An  epidemic 
disease,  whether  cholera,  or  yellow  fever,  or  the 
black  plague,  is  uncertain,  was  just  ceasing  to  de- 
vastate the  community,  and  the  misfortunes  and 
ruin  which  it  caused  had  not  yet  ended.  That  pest 
began  in  the  year  1648,  year  unlucky  for  Yucatan. 
After  the  season  of  northers  in  February  of  that 
year,  a  drought  set  in,  so  rigorous  as  to  sterilize 
the  soil  and  to  produce  intense  heat,  which  was 
increased  by  burning  over  the  fields  in  preparation 
for  the  year's  sowing.  This  drought,  these  heats, 
the  Peninsula  suffers  ordinarily,  but  for  a  short 
time  only,  from  the  month  of  March  until  the 
rains  fall  in  May  —  and,  it  even  happens  often 
that,  before  the  rains,  showers  refresh  the  air  and 
moisten  and  fertilize  the  earth.  The  year  1648 
was  not,  however,  such;  the  heats,  initiated  in  the 
month  of  February,  augmented,  more  and  more, 
until  they  reached  the  extreme  degree  which  hu- 
man nature  can  endure;  the  inhabitants  of  the 
country  anxiously  begged  for  rain  to  diminish  the 
heat,  in  which  they  were  burning;  but  heaven,  deaf 
to  their  clamors,  refused  to  open  its  stores,  and 
time  passed  without  a  single  drop  of  rain  coming  to 


JUAN    F.    MOLINA    SOLIS.  IO9 

refresh  the  thirsty  earth.  Sometimes,  the  rains 
delay  until  the  end  of  June,  but  what  was  seen  in 
1648  has  never  been  since  repeated;  June  passed, 
July  passed,  August  began,  and  the  land  was  as 
dry  as  a  fleshless  skeleton,  exposed  to  the  quivering 
rays  of  a  dog-days'  sun.  The  dust,  fine  and  pene- 
trating, was  constantly  raised  in  clouds,  from 
March  on,  at  the  blast  of  the  southeast  wind,  and 
shut  out  from  view  the  barren  fields  which,  when 
visible  offered  to  the  eye  nothing  but  leafless  trees 
and  ground  overgrown  with  briars  and  brambles 
without  greenness.  Nor  was  the  afternoon  breeze 
any  relief  from  the  extraordinary  heat  and 
drought,  because  that  little  current  of  air,  blowing 
so  softly  and  agreeably  on  summer  afternoons,  at 
that  time  came  impregnated  with  an  odor  strong 
and  pestiferous  as  if  the  whole  Peninsula  had  been 
encircled  by  filthy  and  stinking  cesspools.  And 
this  was  because  that  period  of  drought  coincided 
with  an  extraordinary  infection  of  the  fishes  of  the 
sea,  which  died  in  infinite  numbers,  and  their 
bodies,  tossed  up  by  the  sea  onto  the  shores, 
formed  gigantic  heaps  of  putrefaction,  which 
poisoned  the  air.  How  great  must  have  been  the 
number  of  those  dead  fish,  since  It  Is  stated  that 
the  vessels  that  were  navigating  near  our  coasts 
were  checked  in  their  courses  and  journeyed  slowly, 
as  if  they  were  nmning  in  the  belt  of  calms  or 
through  spaces  filled  with  drifting  ice!  In  vain 
our  police  force,  then  in  embryo,  sent  out  daily, 


no  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

from  all  the  towns  near  the  coast,  files  of  Indians 
led  by  a  Spaniard,  for  the  purpose  of  burning  the 
dead  fish.  The  very  stench  of  the  burning  came 
to  be  unbearable,  so  that  finally  the  expedient  was 
abandoned,  as  harmful. 

Suffering  under  these  tribulations,  the  people  in- 
tensified their  affliction,  by  dire  forebodings,  which 
existed  more  in  their  imagination  than  in  reality. 
As  always  happens,  in  time  of  social  calamity,  aged 
persons  spoke  of  similar  times,  in  remote  epochs, 
which  had  preceded  horrible  disasters.  The  air 
appearing  thick  and  heavy,  they  imagined  that  the 
sun  did  not  shine  as  it  was  accustomed  to  do,  but 
was  as  if  eclipsed;  and,  in  fine,  the  inner  sadness 
of  minds  was  reflected  In  external  things,  conspir- 
ing to  exalt  the  fancy  with  dread  of  vague  misfor- 
tunes, of  coming  and  fatal  ills. 

And  the  fear  became  reality,  since  in  the  month 
of  June  a  terrible  and  contagious  disease  made  its 
frightful  appearance  in  Campeche.  Whether  it 
was  the  Levantine  plague,  which  a  little  before  had 
ravaged  Europe  and  was  brought  by  some  vessel 
to  the  port,  whether  it  was  occasioned  by  the 
putrefaction  of  the  dead  fishes,  whether  it  was 
the  cholera  which  visited  us  for  the  first  time, 
or  whether  it  was  the  yellow  fever  scourg- 
ing with  an  iron  hand,  we  cannot  say.  It 
is  enough  to  know  that  it  was  a  terrible  dis- 
ease, which  converted  Yucatan  into  an  immense 
cemetery.     Sometimes,    without   any   warning,    it 


JUAN    F.    MOLINA    SOLIS.  III 

showed  itself  in  intense  pains  in  the  bones,  accom- 
panied by  excessive  fever  and  delirium;  at  other 
times  with  the  fever  was  united  vomiting  of  putrid 
blood;  now  it  presented  the  diarrhoea  of  the  chol- 
era patient;  now  the  putrid  dysentery  of  pernicious 
fever.  Some  died  in  eight  or  ten  hours;  others 
lasted  through  three,  four,  or  even  seven  days. 
Men  more  than  women,  and  the  youth,  lively  and 
vigorous,  more  than  the  feeble  and  infirm,  were 
the  field  preferred  by  the  epidemic.  No  one 
escaped  its  deleterious  influence,  and  the  Spaniard 
and  Indian,  the  negro,  the  mulatto,  and  the  mes- 
tizo all  paid  their  tribute  to  the  contagion,  which 
showed  no  respect  in  its  depredations.  In  its 
course,  it  sometimes  skipped  populations;  and 
while  it  swooped  pitilessly  down  upon  some  obscure 
and  distant  village,  it  neglected  some  town  close  by 
and  exposed  to  its  attack.  Sometimes  it  seemed 
to  spare  the  Indians,  only  to  return  later  and  make 
a  clean  sweep  of  them. 

There  were  great  sadness  and  horror  in  Merida 
when  notice  was  brought  of  the  rapid,  frequent, 
and  painful  deaths,  which  were  taking  place  in 
Campeche,  and  which  suggested  the  existence  of 
the  plague;  the  more  so  as  an  effort  was  made  to 
minimize  the  reports  of  conditions.  The  pest,  the 
sombre  and  frightful  pest,  which  brings  death  as 
a  daily  thought  to  the  minds  of  all ;  and  not  sweet 
and  peaceful  death,  but  the  most  distressing  of  all, 
death  in  solitude  and  abandonment !     The  stupor, 


112  MODERN   MEXICAN  AUTHORS. 

caused  by  the  news,  did  not  prevent  some  meas- 
ures of  sanitation  to  prevent  the  invasion  of  the 
contagion,  the  principal  of  which  was  isolation. 
The  city  completely  separated  itself,  closed  the 
highways,  set  numerous  guards  in  the  roads,  and 
all  the  inhabitants  turned  their  eyes  to  God,  im- 
ploring pity;  the  temples  were  thronged  and  deeds 
of  mercy  were  more  frequent  and  general. 

Nothing,  however,  sufficed  to  stay  the  advance 
of  the  disease;  in  turn,  it  attacked  Merida,  leap- 
ing over  all  the  populations  in  the  line  of  progress, 
and  appearing  in  the  city  at  the  end  of  July.  At 
first  it  attacked  but  few,  here  and  there  a  person; 
although  the  number  stricken  did  not  cause  a 
panic,  the  promptness  with  which  they  died  struck 
terror.  This,  however,  was  but  the  beginning  of 
the  affliction;  because,  afterward,  in  the  first  days 
of  August  the  disease  increased  above  measure, 
and  by  the  middle  of  the  month  almost  all  the 
inhabitants  of  the  city  were  stretched  upon  the  bed 
of  pain  by  the  contagion.  Whole  families  were 
stricken  and  died  in  isolation,  with  no  one  to  care 
for  them  or  even  to  call  a  nurse,  a  physician,  or  a 
priest  to  give  some  aid.  In  the  sad  and  deserted 
streets  were  only  to  be  seen,  passing  like  fugitive 
spectres,  the  secular  clergy,  the  Jesuits,  and  the 
Franciscans  in  their  long  gowns,  rapidly  crossing 
from  house  to  house  to  administer  consolation  to 
those  dying  who  had  the  happiness  to  receive  them ; 
because,  not  infrequently,  when  the  priests  crossed 


JUAN    F.    MOLINA    SOUS.  I  13 

the  threshold  of  the  house  of  death,  they  only  en- 
countered sepulchral  stillness  and  corpses;  at  other 
times  it  happened  that  the  priest,  who  bore  the 
viaticum,  was  himself  suddenly  stricken  with  the 
disease  and  was  obliged  to  lay  himself  down  to  die 
in  the  first  doorway,  while  another  priest  came  to 
take  the  holy  elements  from  his  hands,  to  continue 
the  sacred  task  of  abnegation  and  sacrifice.  In  the 
cathedral,  in  Santa  Lucia,  in  San  Cristobal,  in 
Santiago,  in  San  Sebastian,  In  Santa  Catalina,  the 
corpses  were  burled  In  the  burying  grounds  near 
the  churches;  but  so  great  was  the  crowd  of  the 
dead  that  the  town  government  commanded  new 
cemeteries  to  be  opened  and  blessed  In  the  fields; 
and,  in  order  not  to  Increase  the  panic,  It  ordered 
that  the  bodies  should  be  carried  to  all  these  ceme- 
teries at  dawn,  where  a  priest  received  them  and  re- 
peated a  prayer  over  them,  and  they  were  thrown 
into  the  common  trench.  That  was  a  mournful 
spectacle,  which  those  fields  of  death  presented  at 
that  hour,  with  long  files  of  corpses,  badly  clad  or 
wrapped  in  scrapes  or  in  henequin  mattings,  laid 
out  on  boards,  or  stretchers. 

The  Governor,  Don  Esteban  de  Ascárraga  did 
not  escape  the  pest;  he  died  August  8  and  was 
buried  quietly,  not  to  augment  the  consternation  of 
the  city.  A  Franciscan  friar,  José  de  Orosco, 
mounted,  hale  and  hearty,  the  pulpit  In  the  church 
of  San  Francisco,  to  preach  the  sermon,  and  de- 
scended III,  and  died.     The  regldors.  In  the  town 


114  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

government,  died;  of  eight  Jesuits,  who  lived  in 
the  Colleges  of  San  Javier  and  San  Pedro,  six  sacri- 
ficed their  lives  on  the  altar  of  charity,  succoring 
the  sufferers  day  and  night;  twenty  Franciscans 
perished  in  the  same  labors;  clergy,  seculars, 
canónigos,  pensioners,  royal  employes,  in  short, 
the  principal  and  choicest  of  the  city  went  down 
to  the  tomb  in  the  month  of  August,  1648. 

Public  consternation  had  reached  its  height;  the 
city  was  completely  overwhelmed.  Without  phys- 
icians, without  adequate  supplies  of  medicines, 
with  no  hospital  except  that  of  Nuestra  Señora 
del  Rosario,  later  known  by  the  name  San  Juan 
de  Dios,  from  the  fact  that  it  was  In  other  times 
served  by  the  mendicant  friars;  sustained  with  dif- 
ficulty, without  sanitary  police,  without  hygienic 
arrangements,  with  the  deaths  increasing,  the  pub- 
lic spirit  crushed.  It  was  then,  when  deprived  of 
every  human  succor,  the  inhabitants  of  Merlda 
redoubled  their  appeals  to  heaven,  and,  recalling 
the  great  devotion  of  the  Province  to  the  Most 
Holy  Virgin  Mary,  resolved  to  make  a  pilgrimage 
to  the  Sanctuai*y  of  Izamal  and  to  bring  the  sacred 
Image,  there  venerated.  In  public  procession  In 
order  to  attribute  to  it  special  worship  during  nine 
consecutive  days.  The  Licencíate,  Don  Juan  de 
Agulleta,  Vice-Governor,  was  appointed  by  the 
city  to  represent  it  and  bring  the  sacred  image  to 
Merlda.  In  so  great  faith  and  mortal  terror  were 
all  the  people  that  the  Licencíate  Agulleta,  himself 


JUAN    F.    MOLINA    SOLIS.  II5 

ill  with  the  pest,  did  not  hesitate  a  moment  to 
receive  the  commission,  and  without  discussion 
started  for  Izamal.  Whether  for  the  faith  with 
which  he  undertook  the  journey,  the  change  of 
temperature,  or  some  other  reason,  the  fact  is  that 
the  licenciate  was  cured  before  he  reached  Iza- 
mal. As  soon  as  the  Indians  learned  the  object 
of  his  journey,  they  tenaciously  opposed  the  re- 
moval of  the  sacred  statue,  fearing  that  it  would 
not  be  returned  to  its  traditional  sanctuary.  The 
persuasions,  threats,  and  exhortations  of  the 
authorities  availed  nothing,  nor  did  those  of  the 
friars  themselves;  the  Indians  distrusted  all,  and 
did  not  willingly  lend  themselves  to  permit  the  de- 
parture of  the  sacred  image  until  the  Provincial 
of  the  Franciscans  agreed  to  remain  in  Izamal,  as 
a  hostage,  until  the  venerated  figure  should  be 
restored  to  its  temple.  And  so  seriously  did  the 
Indians  take  his  proposal  that  they  placed  guards 
upon  all  the  roads  out  from  the  town  to  prevent  his 
escape. 

These  measures  having  been  taken  by  the  In- 
dians, the  holy  image  started  from  Izamal  for 
Merida.  It  was  not  a  procession ;  it  was  a  grand 
popular  festival ;  it  was  a  triumphal  march,  with  an 
enormous  accompaniment  of  people,  who  poured 
forth  from  their  homes,  to  see  pass  by  on  the  high- 
way, the  statue  of  the  venerated  Patroness  of  Yuca- 
tan, whose  aid  was  besought.  Those  who  know  the 
faith,  the  ardor,  the  effusion  of  soul  with  which 


Il6  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

the  humble  and  common  people  devote  themselves 
to  religious  practices,  can  imagine  the  enthusiasm, 
bordering  on  delirium,  with  which  the  inhabitants 
of  the  surrounding  towns  flocked  together,  anxious 
to  render  their  homage  of  love  to  the  Virgin  Mary. 
Long  and  closely  packed  files  of  devotees,  with 
lighted  torches,  formed  the  accompaniment,  which 
stretched,  as  a  broad,  blazing  strip,  through  the 
dry  and  arid  wastes  bordering  the  road.  All  on 
foot,  all  praying,  all  filled  with  remorse,  and  peni- 
tent, they  arrived  at  the  outskirts  of  Merida,  where 
a  numerous  and  select  concourse  awaited  the  pro- 
cession. The  Regidors,  the  Canónigos,  the  princi- 
pal ladies,  had  gone,  barefoot  in  sign  of  penitence, 
and,  when  the  procession  passed  through  the  streets 
of  the  city,  from  the  Cruz  de  la  Villa  to  the  Plaza 
Mayor,  the  sick  had  themselves  brought  to  the 
doors  and  windows  of  their  houses,  to  implore 
health.  After  a  brief  rest  at  the  Cathedral,  the 
procession  went  to  the  Church  of  San  Francisco, 
where  for  nine  days  constantly  the  most  solemn 
worship*  was  attributed  to  the  Most  Holy  Virgin. 
The  nine  days  having  passed,  on  the  23d  of 
August,  1648,  the  Alcalde  Governor,  Don  Juan 
de  Salazar  y  Montejo,  returned  the  sacred  image 
to  the  Sanctuary  of  Tzamal,  with  the  same  splen- 
dor, pomp,  and  accompaniment.  The  pest  miti- 
gated, in  fact,  in  Merida  at  the  end  of  August, 
and  had  almost  disappeared  before  the  middle  of 

*  Mas    solemne   culto. 


JUAN   F.   MOLINA    SOLIS.  II7 

September,  although  merely  changing  the  scene  of 
its  ravages. 

As  happens  always,  the  gathering  of  people,  the 
numerous  concourse  of  inhabitants  from  other 
towns,  scattered  the  seed  of  the  contagion,  which 
spread  its  devastation  throughout  the  whole  coun- 
try. The  first  to  be  attacked  were  the  Indians  of 
Izamal,  who,  faithful  and  devoted,  did  not  aban- 
don the  sacred  image  for  a  moment  on  its  journey 
from  its  natal  city  to  Merida.  From  Izamal  the 
pest  extended  slowly  to  the  east  and  south.  The 
great  procession  took  place  in  August,  and  already 
in  September  the  District  of  Izamal  was  smitten; 
in  October  the  epidemic  had  propagated  itself  to 
Ticul,  Chapab,  Bolonchen,  Mani,  Bolonchenticul; 
in  December  it  had  spread  throughout  the  whole 
coast,  and,  thus,  spreading  from  town  to  town,  it 
fiercely  struck  its  claws  into  the  whole  Peninsula 
during  two  long  and  weary  years. 


ii8 


MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 


LUIS  GONZALES  OBREGON. 


Luis  Gonzales  Obregón,  one  of  the  best  known 
of  living  Mexican  writers,  was  born  in  Guanajuato, 
August  25,  1865.  After  studying  under  private 
teachers  at  his  home,  he  went  to  Mexico,  where  he 
completed  his  preparatory  studies  in  th^  Seminario 
and  in  the  Colegio  de  San  Ildefonso.  Ill  health 
interfered  with  his  further  education,  but  he  had 
already  developed  a  strong  affection  for  literary, 
and  particularly  for  historical,  pursuits,  which  has 
motived  his  whole  life  work.     He  is  a  devoted 


LUIS    GONZALES    OBREGON.  II9 

Student  of  the  national  history  of  his  country 
and  particularly  delights  in  the  investigation  of 
obscure  and  curious  incidents.  So  far  as  a 
feeble  physical  constitution  has  allowed,  he  has 
given  himself  up  to  such  researches  and  to 
writing.  In  1889  he  published  a  useful  lit- 
tle volume,  entitled  Novelistas  Mexicanos  en 
el  Siglo  XIX  (Mexican  Novelists  in  the  Nine- 
teenth Century) .  In  an  introductory  section  he 
briefly  characterizes  the  Mexican  novel;  he  then 
presents  a  complete  list  of  the  novelists  of  the  cen- 
tury, to  the  time  of  his  writing,  with  the  names  of 
their  novels  and  a  few  discriminating  words  re- 
garding their  place  in  the  national  literature.  Our 
author's  best  known  work  is  certainly  México 
Piejo  (Old  Mexico),  of  which  a  "first  series" 
was  printed  in  1891  and  a  "second  series"  in 
1895.  These  have  recently  been  republished,  in  a 
single  volume,  in  Paris.  The  work  consists  of 
essays,  each  dealing  with  some  special  event  in 
Mexican  history,  or  sketching  the  life  of  some 
eminent  person,  or  depicting  some  old  custom 
or  popular  practice.  Usually  they  contain  in- 
formation derived  from  unpublished  manuscripts 
or  rare  and  ancient  works.  Among  the  many 
other  waitings  of  our  author,  two  biograph- 
ical sketches  demand  particular  mention,  on 
account  of  the  interest  and  prominence  of  the 
men  who  form  the  subjects.  These  are  Don 
Jose    J()ü(¡ii¡u     Fernandez    de    I.izardi     (famous 


I20  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

as  a  writer,  early  in  the  last  century,  un- 
der the  nom-de-pliime  of  El  Pensador  Mexicano 
(the  Mexican  thinker),  and  Fida  y  Obras  de  Don 
José  Fernando  Ramirez  (Life  and  Works  of  José 
Fernando  Ramirez),  the  eminent  literary  man, 
historian,  and  statesman.  The  selections,  which 
we  here  present,  are  from  México  Viejo.  They 
do  not  as  satisfactorily  represent  Señor  Obregón's 
style  as  longer  passages  would,  as  he  is  at  his  best 
when  he  narrates  some  ancient  legend  or  describes 
some  popular  festival. 

CHANGES    IN    MEXICO. 

For  some  years  past  Mexico  has  been  under- 
going a  slow,  but  evident,  transformation.  Every- 
where the  modern  spirit  modifies  what  is  old. 
Customs,  types,  dress,  monuments,  and  buildings 
are  completely  losing  the  long-fixed  physiognomy 
of  the  colonial  days. 

The  customs  of  our  ancestors,  half  Spanish, 
half  indigenous,  are  disappearing,  replaced  by  a 
mixture  of  European  practices,  and  now,  in  the 
same  house,  one  prays  in  the  old  fashion,  clothes 
one's  self  after  the  French  style,  and  eats  after  the 
Italian  manner;  one  mounts  his  horse  or  enters  his 
coach  a  ¡a  English,  and  conducts  his  business  a  ¡a 
Yankee,  in  order  to  lose  no  time. 

The  fountains,  those  ancient  fountains  of  the 
colonial  epoch,   have  been   replaced  by  hydrants 


LUIS    GONZALES    OBREGON.  12  1 

and  troughs  at  every  corner,  and  the  traditional 
type  of  the  aguador  (water-carrier)  is  eclipsed  and 
forced  to  betake  himself  to  those  sections  where 
the  deep  shadows  of  the  electric  lights  fall,  and 
where  the  precious  fluid  does  not  flow  of  itself, 
except  when  it  pleases  heaven  to  inundate  the 
streets  and  alleys. 

The  china  *  has  died,  to  live  only  in  the  beauti- 
ful romances  of  the  popular  Fidel;  the  chiera  \ 
yields  her  gay  and  picturesque  puesto  of  refresh- 
ing waters,  to  the  experienced  señorita,  who  in 
high-heeled  shoes  and  tightly-laced  bodice  serves 
us  iced  drink  in  vessels  of  fine  crystal;  the  sereno, X 
with  his  shining,  varnished  hat,  his  ladder  on  his 
shoulder  and  his  lantern  in  his  right  hand,  with- 
draws shame-faced  before  the  gendarme,^  and 
thus  with  other  types,  whom  the  curious  investiga- 
tor now  encounters  only  in  the  pictures  of  forgot- 
ten books. 

Who  now  remembers  the  habits  of  the  humble 
friars,  who  once  traveled  through  the  streets  amid 
the  respectful  salutations  of  the  faithful? 

The  coaches  slung  on  straps,  the  gigs,  the 
omnibuses  —  are  all  passing  away,  all  are  forgot- 
ten in  the  noisy  whirl  of  English  and  American 
carriages  and  the  confusion  of  the  tranvias,^^ 
which  rapidly  slip  over  their  steel  rails. 

•  A   pretty   mestizo  pirl,  of  the  common   peonlc. 

t  Seller   of    fruit    waters,    including   one    maue   with   chia. 

t  NírIu  watchman. 

8  Soldier  police. 

§§  Street  cars. 


122  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

Mexico  changes,  principally,  in  its  material 
part.  The  old  houses  fall  daily,  fagades  change, 
the  ancient  wooden  roofs  give  way  to  iron  sheet- 
ing. 

The  streets  are  being  lengthened,  their  names 
are  expressed  in  cabalistic  signs,  and  their  historic 
and  traditional  associations  are  relegated  to  the 
verses  of  our  poets. 

The  city,  born  amid  the  rubbish  of  the  heroic 
Tenochtitlan,  the  capital  city  of  the  viceroyalty  of 
New  Spain,  which  had  on  every  corner  a  chapel 
or  temple  —  or,  at  least,  a  picture  of  a  saint  — 
pious  evidences  of  the  religion  of  the  populace,  now 
rejuvenates  itself,  appropriating  those  old  build- 
ings, consecrated  to  some  special  purpose,  to  some 
use  far  different,  since  the  epoch  of  the  Reform. 

What  was  then  a  church  is  now  a  library;  what 
was  a  convent,  a  barrack;  what  was  a  customs 
house,  a  departmental  office ;  a  corridor  becomes  a 
gallery;  a  paho,  a  warehouse;  a  refectory,  a  stable. 

Before  the  special  physiognomy  of  those  times 
completely  disappears,  before  the  crowbar  demol- 
ishes the  last  fagades,  before  the  scaffolding  is 
raised  against  the  bulging  wall,  before  — 
finally  —  we  hear  the  song  or  whistle  of  the  indif- 
ferent stonecutter,  as  he  mercilessly  chisels  the 
stone  which  will  completely  change  the  aspect  of 
those  things  upon  which  our  forebears  gazed,  we 
propose  to  conjure  up  the  incidents,  the  times,  and 


LUIS    GONZALES    OBREGÓn.  1 23 

customs  which  have  gone  that  future  generations 
need  not  vainly  excavate  among  forgotten  ruins. 

LUISA  MARTINEZ. 

The  war  of  independence  in  Mexico  had,  also, 
its  martyr  heroines.  The  insurgents  never  exe^ 
cuted  a  woman  of  the  royalists;  but  that  party 
stained  its  arms  with  the  blood  of  the  fair  sex. 


There  was  another  heroine  of  humble  origin 
whom  we  ought  not  to  omit,  because  she,  also,  was 
a  martyr  of  the  independence.  She  was  named 
Luisa  Martínez,  wife  of  Steven  Garcia  Martinez 
(nicknamed  '  the  reveler  '),  who  kept  a  little  shop 
in  the  pueblo  of  Erongaricuaro,  about  the  years 
18 15  and  1816.  Tn  that  pueblo  all  were  cJinqiic- 
tas,  that  is  to  say,  partisans  of  the  royalists.  She, 
however,  was  devoted  to  the  other  flag.  She 
courageously  aided  the  insurgent  warriors,  she 
gave  them  timely  information,  victuals,  resources, 
and  communicated  to  them  messages  from  their 
superior  officers,  with  whom  she  kept  in  constant 
touch.  One  day  her  messenger,  bearing  letters 
directed  to  the  insurgent  leader,  Tomás  Pacheco, 
was  surprised  by  Pedro  Celestino  Negrete.  Luisa 
Martínez  fled;  but,  pursued,  captured,  antl  tried, 
she  was  compelled  to  pay  two  thousand  pesos  and 
to  promise  to  communicate  no   farther  with  the 


124  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

patriots,  ¡n  order  to  regain  her  liberty.  But  she 
was  not  warned  by  her  experience.  Thrice  again 
was  she  pursued,  imprisoned,  and  fined,  until,  at 
last,  she  could  not  pay  the  sum,  four  thousand 
pesos,  which  Negrete  demanded,  and  was  shot  by 
his  order  in  the  year  1 8  1 7,  in  a  corner  of  the  ceme- 
tery of  the  parish  church  at  Erongaricuaro. 

Just  before  her  execution,  turning  to  Negrete, 
she  said  to  him: 

"Why  such  persistent  persecution  of  me?  I 
have  the  right  to  do  what  I  can  to  help  my  coun- 
try, because  I  am  a  Mexican.  I  do  not  believe 
that  I  have  committed  any  crime,  but  simply  have 
fulfilled  my  duty." 

Negrete  remained  inflexible,  and  Luisa  Mar- 
tínez fell,  pierced  by  royalist  bullets. 

SOR  JUANA  INEZ  DE  LA  CRUZ. 

If  there  is  one  literary  glory  among  us,  uni- 
versally recognized  and  applauded,  it  is  Sister 
Juana  Inez  de  la  Cruz,  most  virtuous  nun,  inspired 
poet,  and  pre-eminently  admirable  for  her  pro- 
digious learning. 

Sister  Juana  was  a  privileged  being;  her 
beauty  captivated  all  hearts;  her  intellect  aston- 
ished her  contemporaries. 

The  life  of  that  surprising  woman  is  almost 
a  fairy  tale. 

She  was  born  near  the  slopes  of  those  giants. 


LUIS    GONZALES    OBREGON.  1 25 

Popocatepetl  and  IztaccihuatI,  ¡n  a  country  place 
called  San  Miguel  Xepantla,  in  a  humble  inn 
known  by  the  name  of  la  celda,  at  eleven  o'clock  in 
the  night  of  Thursday,  November  12,  165  i.  At 
three  years  of  age  she  had  coaxed  the  teacher  of 
her  sister  to  teach  her  to  read;  she  was  not  yet 
seven,  when  she  had  written  verses  and  addresses 
to  the  Santisimo  Sacramento,  in  order  to  win  a 
book  which  had  been  offered  as  a  prize;  she  came 
to  Mexico,  where  she  devoured  the  few  books 
which  her  grandfather  owned;  in  twenty  lessons 
with  her  teacher,  Martin  de  Olivas,  she  learned 
the  Latin  language;  she  begged  her  mother  to 
dress  her  as  a  man,  that  she  might  study  at  the 
University;  later,  young  and  beautiful,  as  lady-in- 
waiting  of  Doña  Leonora  Maria  de  Carreto,  then 
the  vice-reina  of  New  Spain,  Juana  de  Asbaje 
charmed  the  gallants  with  her  witcheries  and 
astounded  the  learned  with  her  knowledge. 

One  time,  the  Viceroy  Antonio  Sebastián  de 
Toledo,  Marquis  of  Mancera,  desired  to  convince 
himself  whether  the  learning  of  that  lady  was  real 
or  apparent.  He  collected  at  his  palace  all  the 
notable  men,  reputed  learned,  in  the  city.  What 
with  theologians,  philosophers,  mathematicians, 
historians,  poets,  humanitarians,  '  and  not  a  few  of 
those  whom  in  sport  we  call  tertulios'*  (says 
Padre  Calleja),  forty  were  present.  Juana  de 
Asbaje  appeared  before  that  severe   tribunal    for 

•  Regular  frequenters  of  tertulias  —  i.  e.,  social,  literary  gatherings. 


126  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

examination.  She  astounded  all  by  her  responses. 
The  viceroy  himself,  years  later,  admiringly  re- 
counted the  impressions  of  that  day  to  Padre  Cal- 
leja, and  added  '  As  a  royal  galleon  would  defend 
itself  against  a  few  fishing-smacks  which  might 
assail  it,  so  did  Juana  Inez  easily  disentangle  her- 
self from  the  questions,  arguments,  and  objections 
which  they  all,  each  in  his  own  way,  put  to  her.' 

But  she  did  not  long  shine  in  worldly  life; 
mysterious  reasons  —  disappointments  or  impossi- 
ble affections,  or,  more  likely,  the  repeated  en- 
treaties of  her  confessor  —  decided  her  to  enter  a 
convent.  She  first  chose  that  of  San  José,  of  the 
order  of  the  bare-foot  Carmelites,  today  Santa 
Teresa  de  Antigua;  but  the  rigors  of  that  order 
so  enfeebled  her  that  she  abandoned  the  novitiate 
at  the  end  of  three  months,  by  order  of  physicians. 
Soon,  however,  she  entered  another  nunnery,  that 
of  San  Gerónimo,  never  again  to  depart.  There 
she  publicly  made  her  vows,  on  the  24th  of  Febru- 
ary, 1669.  Pedro  Velasquez  de  la  Cadena,  a 
wealthy  man  of  distinguished  family,  endowed  her 
and  her  confessor.  Padre  Antonio  Nunez  de  Mir- 
ando, bore  the  expenses  of  the  occasion,  and  was 
so  delighted  with  her  profession  that  he  himself 
lighted  the  evening  candles  and  invited  the  lead- 
ing representatives  of  the  civil  and  ecclesiastical 
governments,  the  religious  notables,  and  the  no- 
bility of  Mexico  to  be  present. 

Time  passed.     Sister  Juana,   in  the  silence  of 


LUIS    GONZALKS    OBREGON.  1 27 

her  cell,  without  a  sign  of  pride,  with  spirit  ever 
thirsting  for  knowledge,  studied  incessantly,  and 
with  modesty  received  the  praises,  which  from  all 
parts  were  bestowed  upon  her;  but,  suddenly,  a 
religious  fervor,  offspring  of  her  faith  and  the 
counsels  of  her  spiritual  director  (who  urged  her 
to  abandon  all  dealings  with  the  world)  drove  her 
to  dispose  of  her  books;  she  divided  the  sum 
realized  among  the  needy;  she  left  her  lyre  to 
gather  dust,  flung  her  pen  far  from  her,  and,  grasp- 
ing her  disciplina,  scourged  herself;  she  weakened 
herself  by  fasts,  opened  her  veins,  signed  new  vows 
with  her  own  blood,  until,  finally,  a  pestilence, 
which  had  invaded  the  convent,  stretched  her  upon 
her  couch,  after  she  had  exercised  her  Christian 
charity  in  ministering  to  her  sisters.  She  never 
rose  again.  Science,  in  vain,  eagerly  attempted  to 
help  her.  Vain  were  also  the  clamors  for  her 
health  which  the  convent  bells  clanged  forth. 
Tranquil  as  a  saint,  she  received  her  last  com- 
munion on  earth  and  calmly  closed  her  eyes  to  open 
them  in  heaven. 

Sister  Juana  died  aged  forty-three  years,  five 
months,  five  days,  and  five  hours,  at  four  in  the 
morning  of  April  17,  1695. 

The  funeral  was  imposing.  The  Canon  Fran- 
cisco Aguilar  conducted  the  ceremony.  The  most 
notable  men,  the  most  distinguished  ladies,  and  the 
government  oflicials  were  in  attendance.  '  The 
populace,'   says  one  biographer,   '  crowded   about 


128  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

the  doors  of  the  church  of  San  Gerónimo.     All 

mourned   that   loss    for  letters.  Poets   sung   her 

praises  and  Carlos  de  Sigiienza  y  Gongora  pro- 
nounced the  eulogy.' 

THE    INQUISITION. 

Thus  was  installed,  November  4,  1571,  the 
tribunal  of  the  Inquisition  in  the  very  loyal  and 
very  noble  City  of  Mexico. 

From  that  day  terror  began  among  its  good 
inhabitants!  Woe  to  heretics,  blasphemers,  and 
Jews !     Woe  to  sharpers,  witches  and  sorcerers ! 

Fear  swept  over  all,  and  that  frightful  secrecy 
with  which  the  tribunal  surrounded  itself  con- 
tributed greatly  to  increase  the  terror;  that  mys- 
tery with  which  it  proceeded ;  that  impressive  pomp 
which  it  displayed  in  its  public  sentences  —  which 
in  time  were  the  favorite  diversion  of  the  mob  and 
even  of  the  middle  and  comfortable  class. 

No  one  lived  at  ease;  unknown  and  secret  de- 
nunciation threatened  everyone;  unfortunate  was 
he  who  gave  ground  for  the  least  suspicion  and 
unhappy  was  he  who  merely  failed  to  wear  a 
rosary. 

It  is  necessary  to  transport  one's  self  to  those 
times,  to  read  what  history  records  of  that  dread 
tribunal,  in  order  to  picture,  adequately,  to  one's 
self  the  terror  which  must  have  overwhelmed  those 
who  appeared  before  the  Holy  Office  in  the  old 
Cathedral  of  Mexico. 


LUIS    GONZALES    OBREGON.  1 29 

With  time  respect  diminished,  and  that  which 
before  caused  terror  now  aroused  derision. 

Some  of  the  sentences  were  ridiculous  —  mere 
travesties.  For  instance,  that  celebrated  in  Santo 
Domingo  on  December  7,  1664,  and  in  which  con- 
jugal infelicities  between  the  viceroy,  Mancera,  and 
his  lady  secretly  had  their  influence.  Guido  says: 
"  There  were  ten  condemned  and  among  them 
one  who,  according  to  his  sentence,  was  taken  to 
the  patio  of  the  convent  and  stripped;  two  Indians 
smeared  him  with  honey  and  covered  him  with 
feathers;  there  he  was  left  exposed  four  hours." 

Such  spectacles  must  have  caused  at  first  in- 
dignation, then  contempt. 

No  less  insulting  than  such  punishments  were 
the  penitential  garments  of  those  condemned  by 
the  I  loly  Office,  called  san-henitos.  These  were  a 
kind  of  scapulary  of  linen  or  other  cloth,  vellow  or 
flesh-red  in  color.  1  here  were  three  kinds,  known 
respectively  by  the  names  samarra,  fiic^^o  I'cvolto 
and  san-boiito  —  the  latter  being  also  a  name  com- 
mon to  all. 

The  samarra  was  worn  by  the  relajados,  or 
those  handed  over  to  the  secular  arm  to  be  gar- 
roted  or  burned  alive.  It  bore,  painted  upon  it, 
dragons,  devils,  and  flames,  amid  which  the  crimi- 
nal was  represented  as  burning. 

The  garment  known  as  fiic^o  rcvolto  was  that 
of  those  who  had  abjured,  and  for  this  reason  the 
flames  were  painted  upside  down,  as  if  to  signify 


130  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

that  the  wearers  had  escaped  from  death  in  the 
fiery  embrace. 

Finally,  the  san-benito,  which  ordinary  prison- 
ers wore,  was  a  flesh-colored  sack  bearing  a  Saint 
Andrew's  cross. 

The  kind  of  mitre  which  the  condemned  wore 
upon  the  head  was  called  coroza,  and  was  a  cap  of 
paper,  more  than  a  vara  high,  ending  in  a  point 
like  a  fool's-cap,  with  flames,  snakes  or  demons 
painted  on  it,  according  to  the  category  of  the 
criminal. 

The  condemned  carried  also  rosaries,  and  yel- 
low or  green  candles;  those  of  the  "  reconciled" 
were  lighted,  those  of  the  Impenitent  extinguished; 
when  they  were  "  blasphemers  "  they  were  gagged. 

In  time  these  insulting  insignia  were  looked 
upon  with  indifference  as  any  other  dress,  and  gave 
occasion,  in  Mexico,  to  a  curious  story.  It  chanced 
that  once  a  "  reconciled  "  was  walking  through  the 
streets  wearing  his  san-benito;  some  Indians  seeing 
him  noticed  that  the  dress  was  new  and  one  thought 
it  was  the  Spanish  devotional  dress  for  Lent;  re- 
turning to  his  house  he  made  some  excellent  san- 
bcnitos,  well  painted;  he  brought  them  to  the  city 
and  offered  them  for  sale  to  Spaniards,  saying,  in 
the  Indian  language.  Sic  cohtias  nequi  a  san-benitof 
which  means.  Do  you  wish  to  buy  a  san-benito? 
The  thing  so  amused  everyone  that  the  story  even 
went  to  Spain,  and  in  Mexico  there  is  still  a  saying, 
"  ti  que  quis  benito." 


LUIS    GONZALES    OBREGON.  I3I 

The  common  people  ended  by  losing  all  fear 
of  such  scarecrows,  and  defied  the  Inquisition  in 
this  way: 

Un  Santo  Cristo 
dos  Candeleros 
Y  tres  majaderos.* 
A  merited  jest  for  that  which  knew  not  how  to 
respect  worthy  and  v^aliant  heroes,  such  as  Hidalgo 
and  Morelos. 

•  A  holy  Christ,  two  candle  bearers,  and  three  gawks. 


132 


MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 


FRANCISCO  SOSA. 


Francisco  Sosa  was  born  in  Campeche,  April  2, 
1848.  When  he  was  still  a  child  his  parents  re- 
moved to  Merida,  where  the  boy  received  his  edu- 
cation. His  first  poetical  effort  appeared  in  a  local 
paper,  when  the  writer  was  but  fourteen  years  of 
age.  At  that  time,  he  was  editor  —  in  union  with 
Ovidio  and  Octavio  Zorilla  —  of  the  paper,  La 
Esperanza  (Hope),  in  which  it  appeared.  Four 
years  later  his  Manual  de  Biografía  Yucateca 
(Manual  of  Yucatecan  Biography)  was  published, 


FRANCISCO   SOSA.  1 33 

showing  his  early  devotion  to  the  field  in  which  he 
has  chiefly  figured,  that  of  biography.  With 
Ramón  Aldana,  he  founded  La  Revista  de  Metida 
(The  Merida  Review),  which  is  still  published 
and  is,  unquestionably,  the  most  influential  paper 
in  Yucatan.  In  1868,  when  but  twenty  years  old, 
he  went,  for  the  first  time  to  the  City  of  Mexico, 
where  most  of  his  life  since  has  been  spent.  He 
had,  however,  already  been  a  prisoner,  for  political 
reasons,  in  the  famous  and  dreadful  fortress  of 
San  Juan  de  Ulua,  at  Vera  Cruz.  He  became 
promptly  associated  with  the  literary  men  of  Mex- 
ico and  collaborated  with  them,  upon  a  number  of 
important  periodical  publications,  literary  and  po- 
litical. In  1873  he  was  associated  with  Gen.  Riva 
Palacios  in  the  editorship  of  El  Radical  (The 
Radical).  Later  as  editor  of  the  Federalista 
(Federalist),  he  gave  to  that  paper  a  notable  liter- 
ary reputation  and  contributed  to  it,  both  prose 
and  verse.  He  was  one  of  the  editors  of  El  Bien 
Publico  (The  Public  Good),  a  paper  aimed  to 
combat  the  administration  of  President  Lerdo 
de  Tejada;  while  thus  connected,  he  went  to 
Guanajuato  to  join  the  standard  of  Iglesias,  re- 
turning, at  the  downfall  of  Lerdo  de  Tejada,  to 
the  City  of  Mexico.  Since  that  time,  he  has  edited 
various  periodicals,  including  El  Sij^lo  XLX  (The 
Nineteenth  Century),  El  Nacional  (The  Nation- 
al), and  La  Libertad  (Liberty). 

Señor  Sosa's  books  have  been  mainlv  in  the  line 


134  MODERN   MEXICAN  AUTHORS. 

of  biography.  Besides  the  volume  on  Yucatecans 
already  mentioned,  he  has  published  Don  IVences- 
lao  AJpuche,  Biografías  de  Mexicanos  Distingui- 
dos (Biographies  of  Distinguished  Mexicans),  El 
Episcopado  Mexicano  (The  Mexican  Episco- 
pacy), Efemérides  Históricas  y  Biográficas  (His- 
torical and  Biographical  Ephemerids),  Los 
Contemporáneos  (The  Contemporaries),  Las 
Estatuas  de  la  Reforma  (The  Statues  of  "  the 
Reforma  ")  and  Conquistadores  Antiguos  y  Mod- 
ernos (Ancient  and  Modern  Conquerors).  He 
has  also  written  an  appreciative  work  upon  South- 
American  writers  —  Escritores  y  poetas  Sud-Amer- 
icanos.  Among  his  works  in  other  fields  are  a 
volume  of  stories  —  Doce  Leyendas  (Twelve 
Stories),  and  a  book  of  sonnets,  Recuerdos  (Rec- 
ollections) . 

In  his  poetry  Sosa  is  vigorous,  chaste,  and 
strong.  In  prose  he  is  direct  and  simple,  but  care- 
ful in  language. 

Señor  Sosa  has  ever  been  interested  in  every 
cause  tending  toward  the  advancement  of  Mexico 
and  has  actively  participated  in  the  organization 
and  conduct  of  literary  and  learned  societies.  It 
is  to  his  efforts  that  the  interesting  series  of  statues, 
that  border  the  Paseo  de  la  Reforma,  is  due. 

Our  selections  are  taken  from  his  Estatuas  de  la 
Reforma  and  Biografías  de  Mexicanos  Distingui- 
dos. 


FRANCISCO   SOSA.  I35 

THE  STATUES  OF  THE  REFORMA. 

In  1887  Soso  published  an  article  ¡n  El  Partido 
Liberal  (The  Liberal  Party),  which  has  produced 
a  happy  result.     From  it,  we  quote : 

The  inauguration  of  the  magnificent  monument 
with  which  the  Federal  Government  has  honored 
the  memory  of  the  illustrious  Cuauhtemoc  and  that 
of  the  principal  chieftains  of  the  defense  of  the 
native  land  in  152 1,  has  shown,  not  only  that  Mex- 
ico does  not  forget  her  heroes,  but,  also,  that 
among  her  sons  are  artists  capable  of  producing 
works  creditable  to  any  cultured  nation. 

This  affirmation  is  not  born  from  our  enthus- 
iasm for  all  that  redounds  to  the  glory  of  our  na- 
tive land.  Foreign  writers  ha\-e  not  hesitated  to 
say  that  the  monument  of  Cuauhtemoc  may  be  con- 
sidered the  finest  in  America,  in  its  essentially 
American  architecture  and  in  being  a  work  exclu- 
sively realized  by  Mexican  artists. 

It  is  well  known  that,  in  decreeing,  in  1877,  the 
erection  of  Guatematzin's  monument,  the  govern- 
ment also  decreed  that  in  the  following  glorietas 
should  be  erected  others  to  the  heroes  of  the  Inde- 
pendence and  of  the  Reform;  and,  no  one  doubts 
that,  the  government  persevering  in  its  plan  of  em- 
bellishing the  finest  pasco  in  our  metropolis,  this 
paseo  will  come  to  be  a  most  beautiful  spot,  con- 
sequentlv  most  visited  by  both  citizens  and  foreign- 
ers.    We  believe  that,  to  the  laudable  efforts  of 


136  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

the  Federal  Government,  those  of  the  Governors 
of  the  federative  states  should  be  united.  We 
shall  state,  in  what  way. 

In  the  great  Paseo  de  la  Reforma,  there  already 
exist  pedestals,  destined  to  support  statues  and 
other  works  of  art,  appropriate  to  a  place  of  resort, 
where  daily  gather  the  most  distinguished  members 
of  society;  until  the  present,  there  has  been  no  an- 
nouncement regarding  the  statues  and  art  works 
for  which  these  pedestals  are  intended. 

It  is  plain  that,  however  great  may  be  the  will- 
ingness of  the  Federal  Government,  it  will  need  to 
employ  large  sums  and  many  years,  in  carrying  out, 
unaided,  the  whole  work  of  adornment,  demanded 
by  a  paseo  of  the  magnitude  of  that  of  the  Re- 
forma, since  they  must  be  in  consonance  with  the 
artistic  value  of  the  monuments  already  erected 
and  those  in  contemplation.  What  would  be  of 
slow  and  expensive  realization  for  the  Federal 
treasury,  would  be  easy,  prompt,  and  convenient, 
if  each  of  the  Mexican  States  should  favor  our 
plan. 

However  poor  any  one  of  the  smallest  fractions, 
into  which  the  Republic  is  divided,  may  be,  it  is 
certain  that  it  could,  at  no  sacrifice  at  all,  pay  the 
cost  of  two  life-size  statues  —  such  as  these  pedes- 
tals could  support;  and,  however  meagre  may  be 
the  annals  of  some  of  these  fractions,  no  one  of 
them  can  have  failed  to  produce  two  personages, 


FRANCISCO    SOSA.  I37 

worthy  of  being  honored  with  a  monument,  which, 
recalling  his  deeds,  perpetuates  them. 


the  three  conditions,  which  ought  to  be 
demanded  in  accepting  the  sculptures: 

1.  That  the  honor  should  be  decreed  only  to 
the  notable  dead. 

2.  That  all  the  statues  should  be  of  life-size  and 
of  marble  or  bronze, 

3.  That  the  plans  or  models  should  be  approved 
by  a  special  jury,  named  by  a  cabinet  officer,  in 
order  that  only  true  works  of  art,  worthy  of  figur- 
ing in  a  paseo  in  which  exist  monuments  of  the 
importance  of  those  of  Columbus  and  Cuauhte- 
moc, may  be  accepted. 

Sosa's  suggestion  was  well  received  and,  up  to 
the  present,  something  like  forty  statues  have  been 
erected,  forming  a  notable  gallery  in  which  the 
nation  and  the  states  may  well  take  pride.  The 
states  have  taken  their  turns  and  one,  each  year, 
presents  two  statues,  on  the  anniversary  of  Na- 
tional Independence  —  September  16.  On  the 
whole  the  statues  have  met  the  three  requirements 
and  not  only  form  a  Mexican  house  of  fame,  but 
an  artistic  adornment  to  a  beautiful  driveway. 

MALINTZIN. 

According  to  the  testimony  of  judicious  investi- 
gators, this  celebrated  Indian  woman  was  born  in 


138  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

the  pueblo  of  Painala,  In  the  Mexican  province 
of  Coatzacoalco  (Vera  Cruz).  Her  father  had 
been  a  feudatory  of  the  crown  of  Mexico  and  lord 
of  many  pueblos.  Her  mother,  left  a  widow,  con- 
tracted marriage  with  another  noble,  by  whom  she 
had  a  son,  and  "  it  seems,"  says  an  esteemed  biog- 
rapher, "  that  the  love  felt  by  the  couple,  for  this 
fruit  of  their  union,  inspired  them  with  the  in- 
famous plan  of  feigning  the  death  of  the  first  born, 
that  all  the  inheritance  might  pass  to  the  son,  avail- 
ing themselves  of  a  stratagem  to  remove  suspicion. 
A  daughter  of  one  of  their  slaves  had  died  at  that 
very  time,  and  they  made  mourning  as  if  the  dead 
were  their  own  daughter,  secretly  disposing  of  her 
to  some  merchants  of  Xicalanco,  a  town  located  on 
the  border  of  Tabasco.  Those  of  Xicalanco  gave, 
or  sold,  her  to  their  neighbors,  the  Tabasqueños, 
among  whom  Malintzin  was,  when  on  March  12, 
15 19,  the  Spanish  armada,  under  orders  of  Her- 
nán Cortes,  arrived  at  the  river  of  Tabasco,  to 
which  he  gave  the  name  Grijalva.  It  is  well 
known  that  the  Tabasqueños,  at  first,  attempted  to 
fight  against  the  Spaniards  in  defense  of  their  ter- 
ritory, but  —  before  the  unusual  valor,  before  the 
fire-arms,  before  the  battle  horses  of  the  Con- 
queror —  a  violent  reaction  took  place,  the  com- 
bats ceased,  and  a  peace,  which  could  not  last,  was 
pretended. 

Among  the  gifts  with  which  the  Tabasqueños 
desired   to    demonstrate    their    submission,    were 


riL'\Ncisco  SOSA.  139 

twenty  women,  of  whom  one  was  notable  for  her 
extraordinary  beauty.  IVlalintzin,  the  girl  who 
had  been  cruelly  thrust  out  from  the  parental 
home,  was  this  woman.  They  baptized  her  under 
the  name  of  Marina,  which  the  Aztecs  pronounced 
Malintzin.  "  When  the  Conqueror  received  her 
as  a  gift  from  the  lords  of  Tabasco,  in  company 
with  the  other  women,  he  distributed  to  each  cap- 
tain his  woman,  giving  Malintzin  to  the  Cavalier 
Alonso  Hernández  Portocarrero,  who  was  cousin 
of  the  Count  of  Medellin."  So  says  the  biog- 
rapher to  whom  we  have  referred. 

Continuing  this  imperfect  narrative,  we  may 
say  that  Malintzin  was  useful  to  the  conquerors 
from  their  arrival  at  Vera  Cruz,  since  she  knew 
the  Aztec  language, —  although  we  cannot  explain 
how  she  could,  in  a  few  days,  learn  the  Spanish  to 
discharge  the  role  of  interpreter  so  perfectly  as  his- 
torians declare.  However  that  may  be,  this  In- 
dian woman  appears  as  one  of  the  most  notable 
characters  in  the  epic  poem  of  the  Conquest.  To 
detail  her  doings  in  this  biography,  would  be  to  re- 
produce the  whole  history  of  the  Conquest  of  Mex- 
ico, and  good  books  abound  for  furnishing  the 
data,  which  anyone  may  especially  desire.  We 
limit  ourselves  to  giving  a  few  further  notices  re- 
garding Malintzin  and  to  saying  some  words 
in  her  defense. 

As  has  been  said  Hernández  Portocarrero  was 
the  fortunate  Spaniard  to  whose  lot  the  beautiful 


I40  MODERN   MEXICAN  AUTHORS. 

Indian  maiden  of  Painala  fell.  In  spite  of  this, 
the  chroniclers  of  the  expedition  state  that  Cortes 
had  a  son  by  Marina  and  there  is  no  doubt  that  he 
maintained  love  relations  with  her  until  1523.  In 
that  year,  he  married  her  definitely  to  Juan  de  Ja- 
ramillo,  who,  in  spite  of  his  noble  rank,  had  no 
embarrassment  in  uniting  himself  to  the  woman 
whom  Cortes  abandoned. 

He,  passing  to  Coatzacoalco,  called  together 
the  lords  of  the  province,  and  among  them  Ma- 
rina's mother  and  step-father,  who  immediately 
recognized  her  and  plainly  showed  their  fear  that 
the  young  woman  would  avenge  herself  for  the 
infamous  act  which  had  brought  her  into  the  posi- 
tion in  which  she  found  hersMf.  Far  from  It; 
Marina  gave  them  splendid  gifts  and  treated  her 
injurers  well  —  not  without  making  some  parade 
of  her  bearing  a  son  to  Cortes.  In  this  expedition, 
took  place  the  infamous  execution  of  Cuauhtemoc- 
zin  and  Marina  figures  as  aiding  him  to  a  pious 
death. 

The  Conquest  ended,  nothing  more  Is  heard  of 
Marina  until  1550,  when  she  still  lived  and  com- 
plained to  the  viceroy,  Antonio  de  Mendoza,  that 
the  Indians  of  Jilantongo  did  not  pay  the  tribute 
nor  yield  the  service,  to  which  they  were  obligated. 

The  year  and  place  of  her  death  are  not  known. 
There  Is  nothing  more  to  state  save  that  the  son  of 
Cortes  by  Marina  was  named  Martin  and  that 
he  figures  badly  In  Mexican  histor}-. 


FRANCISCO    SOSA.  I4I 

The  estimable  writer,  José  Olmedo  y  Lama,  in 
the  biography  of  Marina,  with  which  he  opens  the 
second  volume  of  the  interesting  work  "  Hombres 
ilustres  Mexicanos,"  biography  which  we  have  had 
at  hand  in  making  these  jottings,  says  these  cruel 
words:  "  Malintzin  almost  always  appears  repug- 
nant, and  we  believe  that,  only  by  lending  to  her 
fantastic  and  imaginary  attributes,  that  is  to  say, 
by  falsifying  history,  can  she  be  made  great."  It 
is  strange,  indeed,  that  one,  who  held  such  an  opin- 
ion, should  have  cared  to  introduce  the  name  of  the 
repugnant  Indian  woman  into  a  gallery  of  ilustres, 
not  merely  celebres,  personages.  Señor  Olmedo 
reproaches  Marina  for  her  treason  to  her  country, 
serving  as  interpreter  to  the  Conquerors;  he  re- 
proaches her,  because,  married  with  Hernández 
Portocarrero,  she  had  amours,  and  even  a  son, 
with  Cortes;  he  blames  her,  because  she  did  not 
prevent  the  execution  of  Cuauhtemoc  and  because 
she  boasted  to  her  mother  of  having  been  the  first 
Mexican  woman  to  bear  a  son  to  the  Conqueror, 
and  because  she  betrayed  the  conspiracy,  plotted 
by  her  people,  for  the  destruction  of  the  Spaniards. 
These  faults,  which  we  would  not  pretend  to  ex- 
cuse today  in  a  heroine,  have,  if  not  an  excuse,  at 
least  some  just  defense,  in  transferring  ourselves 
to  the  sixteenth  century  and  in  consideration  of  the 
peculiar  circumstances  of  the  woman. 

What  sentiments  had  her  parents  aroused  in  her, 
by  repudiating  her  and  selling  her  to  merchants? 


142  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

What  idea  of  fidelity,  considering  the  customs  of 
her  country,  could  she  have  in  finding  herself  in  the 
arms  of  a  man,  to  whom  she  had  fallen  by  lot,  like 
any  object  in  a  raffle,  and  what  respect  could  a  man 
inspire,  who  servilely  lent  himself  to  any  arrange- 
ment rather  than  to  cross  his  captain?  Had  she 
not  seen  that  the  Tabasqueiios,  in  place  of  dying, 
battling  in  hand-to-hand  combat  for  their  native 
land,  had  made  rich  gifts  to  the  Spaniards,  even 
presenting  them  with  women,  of  whom  she  was 
one?  Ought  we  to  demand  from  her  greater 
ardor  and  patriotism  than  from  the  warriors  ?  As 
for  her  not  having  prevented  the  execution  of 
Cuauhtomoc,  employing,  for  that  end,  her  ascen- 
dency over  Cortes,  it  must  be  remembered  that 
Malintzin,  as  a  shrewd  woman,  could  not  conceal 
from  herself,  that  in  her  wild  lover,  other  passions 
than  love  dominated,  and,  therefore,  every  plea 
would  be  vain. 

But,  above  all.  Señor  Olmedo,  in  hurling  the 
darts  of  his  censure  upon  the  Indian  woman,  should 
remember  that  all  those  faults,  which  we  today 
count  as  such,  committed  by  her,  are  explained  by 
saying,  supported  by  the  testimony  of  historians, 
that  Malintzin  loved  Cortes  blindly,  from  her  first 
meeting  him.  Señor  Olmedo  is  intelligent  enough 
to  know  that  love  is  the  most  enthralling  of  human 
passions.  Malintzin  loved  the  great  Conqueror. 
What  wonder,  then,  that  for  him  she  should  forget 
her  other  duties?     But,  however  that  may  be,  the 


FRANCISCO    SOSA.  1 43 

beautiful  interpreter  of  the  Spaniards  holds  a  most 
prominent  place  in  the  history  of  Mexico. 

FRANCISCO  EDUARDO  TRES  GUERRAS. 

The  illustrious  architect  Tres  Guerras  has  left 
US,  in  the  Carmen  of  Celaya,  a  work  which  is  the 
monument  of  his  fame  and  the  proof  that  he  was 
the  most  skilled  architect  that  Mexico  has  yet  pro- 
duced. 

Francisco  Eduardo  Tres  Guerras  was  born  in 
Celaya,  May  13,  1745,  and  at  fifteen  years  united 
great  proficiency  in  drawing,  to  his  early  studies; 
soon  after,  he  devoted  himself  to  the  fascinating 
art  of  painting,  having  received  lessons,  in  Mexico, 
from  the  most  accredited  artists;  but,  he  found  no 
stimulus,  since  those  paintings  in  w^hich  he  gave 
full  play  to  his  natural  tendencies  and  which  were 
most  conformed  to  the  demands  of  art,  were  the 
least  admired,  while  those  trifles  which  he  dashed 
off  in  order  to  secure  resources  for  his  daily  needs 
were  highly  admired.  Disgusted  with  these  bitter 
disappointments,  he  desired  to  take  the  habit  of  a 
monk  and  had  even  made  some  steps  in  that  direc- 
tion, but  the  love  of  art  rekindled  itself  in  his  heart 
with  redoubled  force,  and  he  desisted  from  his  in- 
tention. He  then  began  to  turn  the  pages  of  Vig- 
nola  and  dedicated  himself  to  the  study  of  archi- 
tecture under  Intelligent  masters. 
-  The  Carmelites  entrusted  to  him  the  work  of 


144  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

the  church  of  Celaya  and  the  good  taste  and  ele- 
gance of  proportion,  united  with  solidity,  caused 
its  fame  to  be  spread  through  the  Republic  and 
the  monks  were  well  pleased.  During  the  con- 
struction of  this  temple,  some  ill-disposed  persons 
tried  to  instigate  the  monks  to  deprive  him  of  the 
direction  of  the  work;  among  these  were  the  archi- 
tects Zápari,  García,  Ortiz,  and  Paz;  but,  to  the 
constancy  and  persistency  of  these  friars,  we  owe 
the  conclusion  of  a  work,  which  does  honor  to  the 
Republic. 

Tres  Guerras  has  left  many  notable  works  in 
many  cities  of  the  interior  of  the  Republic,  such  as 
the  Theatre  at  San  Luis  Potosí,  the  Bridge  at  Ce- 
laya, and  others^  and  in  them  all  are  noticed  a 
perfect  taste  and  observance  of  the  rules  of  art. 

He  was  Sindico,  Regidor,  and  Alcalde  of  Celaya 
and  was  nominated  a  member  of  the  provincial 
deputation  of  Guanajuato,  when  the  Spanish  Con- 
stitution was  re-established  in  1820.  He  died  of 
cholera  the  third  of  August,  1833.  Tres  Guerras 
was  not  only  an  artist  and  a  painter,  but  also  a  poet. 
His  aptitude  was  great  for  all  and  he  revealed 
genius  in  whatever  he  undertook.  His  love  of  na- 
tional liberty  was  such  that  his  demonstrations  of 
delight  on  the  consummation  of  independence  were 
deemed  delirious.  ...  In  closing,  we  will 
narrate  an  anecdote  relative  to  the  death  of  Tres 
Guerras: 

The  terrible  epidemic  of  cholera  was  making 


FRANCISCO   SOSA.  1 45 

frightful  ravages  in  our  land.  In  the  presence  of 
the  peril,  the  celebrated  architect  arranged  all  his 
affairs  and,  on  August  2,  sallied  precipitately  from 
his  house  to  seek  a  confessor.  A  friend  met  him 
in  the  street  and  said: 

"  Where  are  you  going  in  such  haste,  my 
friend?" 

"  Well  asked  " —  calmly  answered  Tres  Guer- 
ras — "  Death  pursues  poor  mortals  with  dreadful 
fury!  As  for  me,  but  little  time  remains  for  me 
in  this  world." 

"But!"  replied  the  friend,  "you  are  still  ro- 
bust, healthy,  and  well.  Tell  me  —  where  did 
you  get  such  an  idea?  " 

"  My  friend,  I  have  no  time  to  talk  with  you. 
Adieu." 

Tres  Guerras  departed,  leaving  the  inquirer 
with  the  question  on  his  lips.  The  following  day, 
the  octogenarian  artist  died.  Fortunately  his 
works  survive  and  they  perpetuate  his  memory. 

COLONEL    GREGORIO    MÉNDEZ. 

Born  in  Comalcalco  and  left  an  orphan  at  six- 
teen years  of  age,  he  succeeded,  by  activity  and 
honorable  dealing,  in  gaining  a  capital,  if  not  large, 
at  all  events  sufficient  to  render  him  comfortable. 
In  1859  he  founded,  at  his  own  expense,  a  night 
school  and,  in  the  following  year,  another  of 
music.     Thus,  doing  good  and  devoted  to  his  bus- 


146  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

¡ness,  he  lived  beloved  in  his  village,  without 
dreams  of  political  ambition  or  military  fame, 
when  General  Arévalo  took  possession  of  San 
Juan  Bautista  and  unfurled  the  banner  of  the  In- 
tervention. The  Governor,  Victorio  Dueñas, 
offered  no  resistance  and  on  the  thirtieth  of  June, 
1863,  was  routed.  The  first  step  of  the  Con- 
queror, Arévalo,  was  to  condemn  to  exile  those 
citizens  who  were  reputed  liberals,  among  them 
Gregorio  Méndez;  but  he,  in  place  of  bowing  to 
the  orders  of  the  usurper,  organized  a  revolution- 
ary movement,  which  broke  out  at  Comalcalco,  on 
October  8th.  In  Jalpa,  Méndez  seized  some  mus- 
kets; at  the  same  time  another  patriot,  Andres 
Sánchez  Magallanes,  rose  in  arms  in  Cárdenas. 
The  republican  revolution  thus  initiated,  the  com- 
mandant, Vidaña,  was  designated  to  act  as  Chief 
of  Brigade,  and  Colonel  Pedro  Méndez  as  Gover- 
nor; but,  as  the  latter  was  captured  at  the  capital 
and  Vidaña  was  wounded,  the  military  leadership 
fell  upon  the  subject  of  our  study,  with  no  arrange- 
ment made  for  the  civil  government. 

Thus  the  war  of  the  Restoration  began  in  Ta- 
basco. In  a  few  days  the  forces  of  Méndez  joined 
those  of  Sánchez  Magallanes,  and  the  two  leaders 
undertook  the  campaign  with  ardor,  seconded  by 
a  population,  unsurpassed  in  patriotic  spirit;  most 
brilliant  deeds  of  war  followed  one  another  from 
then  on  until  the  final  triumph  of  the  Republic; 
examples  of  valor  and  abnegation  were  multiplied; 


FRANCISrO    SOSA.  1 47 

patriotism  inspired  the  noblest  actions,  forever 
placing  the  name  of  the  State  of  Tabasco  In  the 
foremost  line. 

To  follow  Colonel  Méndez  In  each  and  all  of 
the  events  which  took  place  in  that  memorable 
epoch;  to  relate  his  personal  deeds  and  those  of  his 
brave  companions,  would  be  to  transfer  here  the 
extended  and  detailed  report  rendered  by  him  to 
the  Minister  of  War,  the  seventeenth  of  October, 
1867  —  report  which  is  a  veritable  history  of  the 
republican  Restoration  in  Tabasco,  which  had  a 
happy  issue,  the  twenty-seventh  of  February,  1864, 
with  the  capture  of  San  Juan  Bautista. 
This  was  not,  indeed,  the  full  extent  of  the  fatigues 
of  those  patriots,  since  they  maintained  themselves 
in  arms  and  fortified  their  towns  to  prevent  fresh 
assaults,  since  in  all  parts  —  Vera  Cruz,  Cam- 
peche, Yucatan,  Chiapas  —  combats  were  still  tak- 
ing place,  and  Colonel  Méndez  did  not  limit  him- 
self to  securing  the  re-establishment  of  the  repub- 
lican regime  in  Tabasco,  but  placed  the  resources 
under  his  control  at  the  service  of  the  neighboring 
States  and,  in  general,  at  that  of  the  cause  defended 
by  him  with  such  admirable  vigor. 

And,  It  must  not  be  thought  that  the  work  of 
Colonel  Méndez,  in  those  difficult  circumstances, 
was  confined  to  fulfilling  his  duties  as  military 
chief.  Far  from  it;  all  the  branches  of  civil  ad- 
ministration were  carefully  arranged,  thanks  to  the 
fact  that  he  was  ever  warmly  seconded  In  his  noble 


148  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

eííorts  by  all  classes  of  the  community,  who  never 
refused  their  adhesion  or  their  resources  —  be- 
cause he  was  not  only  respected  for  his  patriotism, 
but  admired  for  the  stainless  honor,  which  charac- 
terized him.  If  he  numbered  among  his  soldiery, 
those  capable  of  using  arms,  and  among  them 
many  who  afterward  figured  in  loftier  posts  than 
he  himself,  he  also  numbered  in  his  civil  helpers 
the  most  intelhgent  Tabasqueños,  among  them 
Manuel  Sánchez  Mármol,  who  contributed  (equal- 
ly with  any)  to  the  Restoration,  by  his  intelligence 
and  wisdom,  discharging  the  secretaryship  of  the 
government  of  Méndez  and  other  arduous  duties, 
with  the  ardor  natural  to  youth  and  with  the  heart- 
felt affection  which  he  felt  for  the  vaHant  leader, 
in  whom  he  saw  his  democratic  ideals  embodied. 
From  the  lips  of  Colonel  Méndez  himself  we  have 
repeatedly  heard,  that  to  Señor  Sánchez  Mármol 
he  owed,  in  that  trying  epoch,  services  he  could 
never  forget  and  which  influenced,  in  a  decisive 
way,  in  the  triumph  of  the  Republican  cause,  and 
in  the  public  administration.  '  If,  of  these  serv- 
ices,' Colonel  Méndez  has  said  to  us,  '  full  mention 
is  not  made  in  my  report  to  the  Minister  of  War  in 
1867,  it  is  because  this  report  was  edited  by  Sénor 
Sánchez  Mármol,  and  he  did  not  care  to  make  his 
own  panegyric,  although  the  document  was  not  to 
bear  his  name.' 

On  the  sixth  of  June,  1867,  when,  as  he  himself 
says  in  the  before-mentioned   report,   order  and 


FRANCISCO    SOSA.  1 49 

public  repose  were  solidly  re-established  he  had  the 
satisfaction  of  resigning  the  government  into  the 
hands  of  Felipe  J.  Serra,  named  as  his  successor 
by  the  General  Headquarters  of  the  Army  of  the 
East. 


150 


MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 


JULIO  GUERRERO. 


W"^i'///y 


Julio  Guerrero  was  born  on  April  i8,  1862,  a 
day  notable  in  Mexican  history,  in  the  City  of 
Mexico.  His  parents  were  José  Maria  Guerrero 
and  Luisa  Groso,  both  natives  of  Durango.  His 
father,  a  lawyer  of  eminence,  was  for  fifteen  years 
a  Judge  of  the  Supreme  Court;  a  pronounced  Lib- 
eral in  politics,  he  was  a  friend  and  trusted  adviser 
of  Benito  Juarez.  The  young  Julio  was  sent  to 
Rhodes's     English     Boarding     School,     then     to 


JULIO    GUERRERO.  I5I 

the  Escuela  Preparatoria  (National  Prepara-tory 
School).  He,  later,  studied  in  the  Escuela  de 
Jurisprudencia,  receiving  his  title  of  Licenciado  by 
acclamation,  on  October  4,  1889.  In  that  same 
year,  he  was  one  of  the  founders  of  the  Revista  de 
Jurisprudencia  y  Legislación  (Review  of  Jurispru- 
dence and  Legislation),  upon  which  he  is  still  a 
collaborator  and  to  which  he  has  contributed  many 
articles.  His  most  important  literary  work  is  FA 
Genesis  del  Crimen  en  Mexico  (The  Genesis  of 
crime  in  Mexico).  The  title  of  the  book  scarcely 
accords  with  its  content.  It  is  really  an  analysis 
of  the  Mexican  society  and  character.  Rarely 
does  any  student  see,  so  clearly  as  does  Guerrero, 
the  actual  condition  of  his  own  society;  still  more 
rarely  does  one  so  clearly  state  it.  In  some  of  his 
conclusions  and  views  Guerrero  differs  profoundly 
from  us,  but  we  are  forced  to  admire  his  sincerity 
and  earnestness.  His  book  met  a  notable  recep- 
tion. Under  the  presidency  of  Porfirio  Parra,  a 
group  of  the  leading  members  of  the  scientific  so- 
cieties of  Mexico,  devoted  ten  consecutive  meetings 
to  its  consideration  and  discussion,  the  author  him- 
self being  present.  During  the  recent  political 
agitation  by  the  partisans  of  Limantour  and  Reyes, 
Guerrero  established  and  edited  a  monthly  journal, 
La  República.  It  was  ardently  liberal  and  demo- 
cratic in  spirit  and  dealt  vigorously  with  live  ques- 
tions. It  was  suppressed  by  the  government,  after 
fourteen  issues.     Guerrero  has  not  abandoned  his 


152  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

propaganda  and  will  shortly  establish  another  jour- 
nal for  the  propagation  of  his  ideas.  He  has 
much  matter  ready  for  printing.  Of  this,  un- 
doubtedly the  most  important  is  his  Reformas  pro- 
jectadas  (Proposed  reforms),  in  which  the  ques- 
tion of  the  Presidential  succession  is  discussed. 
Guerrero  Is  a  good  thinker,  intense  in  his  convic- 
tions, vigorous  in  their  expression.  Our  selections 
are  from  the  Genesis  del  crimen.  Guerrero's  style 
is  not  always  beyond  reproach  and  his  punctuation 
is  absolutely  his  own.  In  translation,  we  have 
followed  both  with  care. 

THE  MEXICAN  ATMOSPHERE. 

As  a  psychical  phenomenon,  natural  to  so  pure 
an  atmosphere,  there  have  developed  in  Mexico 
those  faculties,  which  require  perfect  eyesight. 
Mexican  photographs  have  attracted  notice  in  New 
York,  and  Mora  conducts,  in  competition  with  the 
best  photographers  of  that  metropolis,  a  profitable 
business,  being  quite  in  vogue  with  the  American 
aristocracy.  The  photographic  views  of  the  cen- 
tral plateau  are  distinguished  by  the  sharpness  of 
their  outlines,  shadows  and  details  and  are  ex- 
ported to  Europe  and  the  United  States,  constitut- 
ing, in  those  regions,  of  less  clear  vision,  an  ir- 
refutable proof  of  the  perfection  of  our  landscapes 
transferred  to  their  canvases  by  Velasco  and  other 
painters  of  scenery;  when  he  desired  to  exhibit  his 


JULIO    GUERRERO.  I  53 

paintings  of  the  Valley,  in  the  exposition  of  1889, 
he  found  opposition  on  the  part  of  Meissonier,  who 
believed  it  impossible  that  there  should  be  such 
sharp  and  vivid  detail  and  coloring  in  a  real  land- 
scape. Proofs  of  a  different  order,  and  entirely 
practical,  of  the  sharpness  of  outline,  are  given  by 
our  professional  hunters,  who  with  a  miserable 
musket,  sally  from  their  pueblos  in  the  morning  in 
search  of  game  and  invariably  return  with  two 
animals.  In  the  battalions,  good  shots  form  sev- 
enty-five per  cent  of  the  troop,  with  certainty  of 
aim  at  five  hundred  to  a  thousand  metres  distance. 
The  wild  Indians  of  Coahuila,  Chihuahua,  and 
Nuevo  Leon,  shoot  their  arrows  at  a  five-cent  piece 
thrown  into  the  air;  and  boys  on  the  streets  and  in 
the  villages  strike  the  bulls-eye  with  their  sling- 
stones  at  a  distance  only  limited  by  their  strength. 
In  billiards  and  bowling,  in  the  suburbs,  with  badly 
rounded  balls  and  illy-leveled  tables,  they  make 
shots  as  brilliant  as  if  both  balls  and  tables  were 
all  they  should  be. 

The  arts  of  drawing  have  developed  as 
rapidly  as  the  political  and  economical  condi- 
tions permitted;  and  in  all  America,  Mexico 
has  been  the  only  country  which  has  produced 
a  school,  so  numerous,  distinguished,  and  orig- 
inal have  been  her  painters.  Their  works  have 
almost  been  exhausted,  by  exportation  to  Eu- 
rope as  paintings  of  Spanish  artists  of  the 
great    Seventeenth     Century,     but    students    still 


154  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

come,  from  the  republics  to  the  south,  sent  to  here 
study  the  masterpieces  which  we  still  retain,  since 
the  number  of  the  national  painters,  of  whom  some 
work  of  merit  remains,  rises  to  one  hundred  and 
sixty-one.  The  art  they  practised  was  cathohc  and 
aristocratic,  religious  subjects  and  portraits;  con- 
sequently it  decayed  with  the  colonial  regime  and 
fell  with  the  decline  of  power  of  the  clergy;  but, 
in  the  lack  of  demand  for  such  art,  the  national 
assthetic  spirit  took  refuge  in  popular  modeling  in 
clay,  rags,  or  wax,  and  produced  in  the  figurines 
of  Guadalajara  and  Puebla  an  artistic  school,  only 
inferior  in  product  and  spontaneity  to  that  of  Tan- 
agra  in  ancient  Greece. 

In  the  feather-mosaics  of  Michoacan,  in  its 
lacquer  rivaling  those  of  China;  in  the  carving  on 
the  walking-sticks  of  Apizaco,  atavie  manifestation 
of  the  ancient  Mexican  wood-carving  which  found 
beautiful  expression  in  the  choir-stalls  and  benches 
of  the  churches;  In  the  floral  decorations  of  the 
Indians  of  Mixcoac  and  Coyoacan;  in  the  sculp- 
tures of  the  facades  of  houses  —  which  are  at 
times  caryatids  worked,  without  a  single  false  blow 
from  the  chisel,  after  the  blocks  have  been  set  In 
the  wall;  In  the  gold  and  silver  filagree,  and  even 
In  the  mural  paintings  of  the  pulquerías  or  In  the 
realistic  illustrations  of  the  newspapers,  there  is 
revealed  the  artistic  talent,  though  frequently 
without  technique,  of  a  nation,  living  In  a  medium 
propitious  to  vision;   and  in  which  the  line,  the 


JULIO    GUERRERO.  I  55 

shadow,  and  the  tints,  are  seen  without  blur  or 
dimmed  by  haze,  since  there  are,  on  the  average, 
one  hundred  and  five  absolutely  clear  days  in  the 
year  and  among  clouded  days,  those  with  mists  are 
rare ;  and  when  these  do  occur  they  last  but  an  hour 
or  two  in  wintry  mornings. 

GOVERNMENTAL    DIFFICULTIES. 

This  social  phenomenon  was  aggravated  by 
the  distribution  of  villas  within  the  territory  of 
each  of  the  provinces,  later  converted  into  states; 
since  in  many  cases  it  happened  that  the  villas  were 
so  much  the  nearer  to  their  respective  capitals,  as 
these  were  nearer  to  the  capital  of  the  republic; 
and  vice-versa,  the  villas  were  distant  from  their 
capitals  in  proportion  as  these  were  distant  from 
the  national  centre;  both  consequences  of  the  po- 
litical division  established  by  Galvez;  since,  as  he 
based  it  upon  the  unequal  distribution  of  popula- 
tion, the  more  remote  provinces  must  have  a  more 
extended  territory  and  more  widely  separated  set- 
tlements; thus,  the  density  of  population  decreased, 
from  the  centre  outward,  in  every  direction.  And 
as  the  social  development  in  a  province,  converted 
later  into  an  autonomous  state,  depended  on  the 
frequency  and  importance  of  the  relations  between 
the  capitals  and  their  respective  districts;  it  re- 
sulted that  the  culture  influence  of  the  capital, 
weakened  by  its  remoteness  from  a  state,  was  still 


156  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

further  weakened  in  the  villas,  by  the  great  dis- 
tances which  separated  them  from  their  govern- 
mental centres.  And  this  phenomenon  was  re- 
peated in  a  third  degree,  in  the  interior  of  each 
political  subdivision,  in  the  operation  of  social  and 
political  influence  of  any  villa  upon  the  lesser  set- 
tlements subordinated  to  it. 

Ah  well,  as  all  the  cities  of  the  independent 
colony  were  at  different  distances  from  the  capital, 
they  were  at  different  stages  of  national  develop- 
ment; consequently  all  had  different  and  often  con- 
flicting interests,  necessities  and  aspirations.  The 
political  program,  philosophical  ideas,  literature, 
ideals  and  models  of  art,  social  usages,  moral  prin- 
ciples, interpretations  of  law,  cut  of  dress,  and 
even  the  vocabulary  and  phrases  of  polite  society, 
which  —  as  useless,  ugly,  harmful,  absurd,  or  dis- 
agreeable —  had  been  banished  from  the  capital 
were  found  in  the  provincial  cities;  and  those, 
which  were  there  proscribed,  had  taken  refuge  in 
the  villas  and  secondary  towns.  In  matter  of  gov- 
ernment the  same  thing  was  repeated  and  those 
acts  by  which  it  displays  itself  —  militar}'  equip- 
ment, judicial  decision,  tax  levying,  seizure  of  con- 
traband, pursuit  of  bandits  and  savages,  organiza- 
tion of  authority,  conspiracies,  masonry,  political 
intrigues, —  in  fact,  every  political  phenomenon 
which,  depended  upon  or  originated  in  the  capital, 
was  repeated  in  the  states,  with  an  imperfectness, 
so  much  the  greater  as   the  distance  separating 


JULIO    GUERRERO.  I  57 

them  from  it  was  greater;  and,  as  the  conduct  of 
government  depended  upon  this  phenomenon,  It 
at  last  resulted  that  the  co-ordination  and  harmony 
between  the  states  and  the  centre  depended  on  the 
time  necessary  for  the  communication  of  official 
orders.  Accord  between  those  who  constituted 
the  governing  classes  of  all  the  cities,  villas,  and 
subordinate  populations,  was,  consequently,  not 
only  difficult,  but  was  often  Impossible,  and,  some- 
times, useless.  Thus,  the  country  was  geograph- 
ically constructed  and  populated  for  an  Inevit- 
able anarchy;  an  area  within  which  every  union  of 
states,  provinces,  cities,  religions,  races,  or  political 
parties,  had  to  be  theoretical  and  unstable. 

The  most  important  corroboration  of  this  law 
was  the  separation  of  Texas,  political  phenomenon, 
which,  thanks  to  it,  has  an  explanation  actually 
mathematical.  In  fact,  the  settlers,  who  recog- 
nized San  Antonio  as  their  centre,  did  not  amount 
to  forty  thousand  Inhabitants  scattered  over  an 
area  larger  than  that  of  the  French  Republic,  and 
depended  politically  upon  the  State  of  Coahuila, 
of  which  the  capital  Is  Saltillo.  The  distance 
which  separated,  by  the  cart-roads  of  that  time, 
these  two  points,  was  eight  hundred  and  sixty- 
eight  kilometres,  which  they  traversed  In  sixteen 
days  in  the  dry  season  and  In  thirty-two  days  in  the 
period  of  rains,  and  the  distance  from  Mexico  to 
Saltillo  was  nine  hundred  and  forty-seven  kilo- 
metres —  or  say,  twenty  days  In  the  dry  and  forty 


158  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

days  in  the  wet  season.  If  instead  of  considering 
the  local  capitals,  we  consider  the  frontiers  of  the 
provinces,  distances  double  and  difficulties  in- 
crease. 

ATAVISMS. 

This  phenomenon,  moreover,  is  but  the  an- 
thropological expression  of  a  more  general  biolog- 
ical law,  in  virtue  of  which  human  races,  in  order 
to  adapt  themselves  to  the  medium  in  which  they 
are  developed,  assume  a  uniform  physical  type  and 
character,  which  persists,  or  repeats  itself  anatom- 
ically and  psychically  through  the  ages,  in  spite 
of  the  external  forms  of  their  civilization;  in  the 
same  way  as  do  other  animals,  and  plants.  Thus, 
for  example,  since  the  days  of  Trajan  the  bullocks 
of  the  Danube  have  had  enormous  and  diverging 
horns;  in  China  the  cattle  are  hump-backed,  despite 
cross-breeding  with  other  strains;  and,  although 
the  first  offspring  from  crossing  may  be  like  the 
foreign  parent,  in  the  fifth  or  sixth  generation 
there  appears  In  the  creóle  calf  the  hump  of  the 
original  and  native  form.  Among  the  ancient 
castas  of  the  vice-reinal  society  the  negro  was  seen 
to  reappear  in  families  of  white,  or  even  of  red 
parentage,  provided  there  had  been  blacks  in  the 
ancestr}\  In  the  waters  of  the  Nile,  the  lotus  yet 
floats  its  blue  corolla,  which  the  architects  of  Mem- 
phis copied  In  the  capitals  of  their  temples;  and 
the  Fellah  of  Pharaonic  days  reappears  in  families 


JULIO    GUERRERO.  I  59 

crossed  with  the  Macedonians  of  the  Ptolemies; 
and,  in  the  first  centuries  of  the  Arab  domination, 
in  spite  of  the  torrents  of  foreign  blood  introduced 
by  polygamy.  Even  today  the  type  reasserts  itself 
in  the  native  regiments  of  the  English  army  at 
Cairo  —  bronzed,  titanic,  full-chested,  a  living 
model,  which  is  copied  in  the  colossi  of  Isamboul 
and  which  is  the  ethnic  brother  type  of  the  Ra- 
meses  and  Amenhotep. 

In  the  central  tableland  of  Mexico,  arid,  hot, 
and  luminous,  where  the  atmosphere  keeps  the 
nerves  at  high  tension;  where  thoughts  are  clouded 
by  the  abuse  of  tobacco,  of  alcohol  and  of  coffee; 
by  the  irritation  of  an  eternal  and  fruitless  battle 
for  life;  and,  until  lately,  by  the  frightful  impossi- 
bility, almost  age-long,  of  forming  a  plexus  of 
social  solidarity;  character,  in  the  greater  part 
of  society  has  degenerated  and  the  ferocious  ten- 
dencies of  the  Aztecs  have  reappeared.  After  ten 
generations,  there  has  returned,  to  beat  within  the 
breasts  of  some  of  our  compatriots,  the  barbaric 
soul  of  the  worshipers  of  Ilult/.llopochtl,  of  those 
of  the  sacred  springtimes  who  went,  to  the  lugu- 
brious sounds  of  the  tepoiiastl  to  make  razzias  of 
prisoners  in  Tlaxcala  and  Hucjotzinco,  to  open 
their  breasts  with  obsidian  knives,  to  tear  out  the 
heart  and  eat  It  In  the  holocaust  of  their  gods. 
Three  centuries  of  masses  and  of  barracks  have 
been  too  little  for  the  complete  evolution  of  char- 
acter among  the  people;  and  if,  on  the  Silesian 


1 6o  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

plain,  the  Sarmatian  of  Attila  yet  appears,  so  too 
¡n  our  political  struggle  there  has  re-appeared,  with 
the  indomitable  warrior  of  Ahuitzotl,  the  sanguin- 
ary priest  of  Huitzilopochtl. 

There  is,  in  fact,  nothing  in  our  independent 
history,  more  lugubrious;  even  the  most  illustrious 
leaders  have  stained  their  glory  by  the  shedding, 
needlessly,  of  blood.  The  burning  of  villages  and 
executions  en  masse  present  themselves  at  the  turn- 
ing of  every  page  like  the  funeral  refrain  of  an 
infernal  poem;  and.  If  it  be  true,  that  there  are  not 
lacking  some  superior  souls  —  as  Don  Nicolás 
Bravo,  who  set  at  liberty  three  hundred  Spanish 
prisoners,  although  he  knew  the  Spanish  leader 
had  just  shot  his  father  —  many  other  leaders,  of 
that  and  later  epochs,  systematically  executed  all 
who  fell  Into  their  hands.  The  system  was  con- 
verted into  a  custom  and  gave  such  an  Impress  of 
barbarity  to  our  political  struggles  as  is  not  to  be 
found  even  in  negro  Africa;  since  there  war  pris- 
oners are  held  as  captives,  whose  ransom  Is  the 
motive  of  war;  slavery  redeems  them  from  death. 

In  Mexico,  on  the  contrary,  frequently  no  ac- 
count ¡s  made  of  prisoners  but  only  of  the  killed 
and  wounded;  and  the  latter  were  shot  or  knifed 
in  spite  of  the  severity  of  their  wounds.  Hidalgo 
himself  not  only  ordered  that  those  taken  In  battle 
should  be  killed  without  fail;  but  In  Guadalajara 
and  Valladolld  commanded  the  seizure  of  suspects 
and  caused  them  to  be  stabbed  at  night.  In  remote 


JULIO    GUERRERO.  l6l 

places,  that  they  might  not,  by  their  cries,  cause  a 
disturbance.  In  this  way  six  hundred  innocent 
persons  perished;  and  he  advised  the  leader,  Her- 
mosillo,  to  do  the  same  in  El  Rosario  and  Cósala. 
Morelos,  after  the  battles  of  Chilapa,  Izucar, 
Oaxaca,  etc.,  shot  all  his  prisoners  without  mercy; 
and  Osorio  did  the  same  in  the  valley  of  Mexico, 
Garcia  in  Bajio,  and  all  the  other  insurgent  lead- 
ers, though  usually  in  the  way  of  reprisal. 

In  the  first  insurrection,  military  ferocity  devel- 
oped to  a  degree  only  seen  in  Asiatic  and  African 
wars,  without  the  least  regard  for  humanity  and 
with  systematic  neglect  of  the  rights  of  nations. 
The  prisoners  surrendered  with  Sarda  in  Soto  la 
Marina,  for  example,  were  taken  to  San  Juan  de 
Uliia,  on  foot,  in  pairs,  shackled  together,  and  in 
the  fortress,  were  entombed  in  humid,  dark,  pesti- 
lential, dungeons,  hot  from  the  tropical  sun  of  the 
coast  lands.  This  constant  corporal  subjection, 
led  to  mutual  hatreds  among  the  unhappy  beings, 
since  the  natural  necessities  of  the  two  members  of 
a  couple  were  rarely  simultaneous;  and  in  order 
to  satisfy  thirst  or  any  other  need  it  was  necessary 
to  beg  permission  of  one's  companion;  which  led  to 
constant  bickerings  between  them  and  occasioned 
sport  for  the  jailors.  Orrantia  personally  stnick 
General  Mina,  when  he  was  taken  prisoner,  with 
the  flat  of  his  sword.  To  hasten  the  surrender  of 
the  Fort  of  Sombrero,  the  same  leader  left  one 
hundred  corpses,  of  those  who  had  fallen  in  the 


1 62  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

fruitless  assaults,  unburied,  with  the  object  of 
causing  pestilence.  The  infirm  and  wounded  of 
Los  Remedios  were  burned  in  the  building  which 
served  them  as  hospital,  and  those  who  attempted 
to  escape  were  driven  back  at  the  point  of  the 
bayonet.  Liñan  forced  two  hundred  prisoners  to 
demolish  the  embankments  of  the  fortress  of  their 
own  party;  and  then  tied  them  to  tree  trunks  in  the 
forest  that  they  might  be  shot  for  target  practice. 
Ordonez  in  Jilotepec  shot  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
three  prisoners,  including  wounded  and  children, 
by  thirties,  at  the  edge  of  a  ditch,  in  the  Cerro  del 
Calvario;  first  causing  the  wounded  to  be  carried 
thither  on  the  shoulders  of  the  uninjured. 

UNCERTAINTY    AND    GAMING. 

This  atmosphere,  pure  and  luminous,  full  of 
slumberous  breezes  in  the  shade  and  of  debilitating 
heat  in  the  sunshine,  capricious  and  treacherous, 
not  only  has  an  influence  upon  the  physiology, 
pathology,  and  life  of  the  Mexicans,  but  it  gives 
to  much  of  their  labor  an  unstable  character.  In 
fact,  as  permanent  rivers  are  few  in  those  great 
plains,  and  as  those  which  exist  are  due  to  rain,  the 
sowings  of  the  rainy  season,  which  are  the  more 
important,  and  their  fruition,  where  there  are  no 
rivers,  demand  rains.  But  since,  on  the  other 
hand,  deforestation,  carried  on  since  the  vice-reinal 
days,  has  been  destructive,  not  only  are  lacking 


JULIO    GUERRERO.  I  63 

forests  and  groups  of  trees,  which,  as  thermal  cen- 
tres uniformly  distributed  over  the  higher  plateau, 
might  give  shelter  to  the  sowings  against  the  chill 
of  night  and  early  morning,  or  which,  in  the 
guise  of  fences  of  foliage,  might  intercept  the  cold 
blasts  of  northers;  but  also,  through  their  lack, 
rains  have  become  rare  and  irregular,  there  being 
regions  where  they  have  failed  for  six,  sev^en,  and 
eight  consecutive  years;  as  happened  in  the  Mez- 
quital  of  the  state  of  Hidalgo,  the  llano  district  of 
Chihuahua,  and  the  north  of  the  state  of  Nuevo 
Leon  in  the  years  1887  to  1895.  In  1892  and 
1893  the  drought  was  general  and  desolated  a 
great  part  of  the  Central  Plateau. 

When  the  season  of  rains  arrives,  the  fields  are 
transformed  in  a  single  week,  and  where  was  a 
barren  and  arid  horizon,  there  extends  itself 
a  mantle  of  tender  verdure  with  corn-fields  and 
springing  wheat,  which  from  day  to  day  develop, 
open  their  spikes  to  the  sun,  and  seem  to  cast  back 
to  ¡t  its  last  rays,  as  golden  oceans,  ruffled  by  the 
evening  breeze.  The  laborers  busy  themselves  in 
guarding  them;  but  an  unseasonable  hailstorm  de- 
stroys them,  or  a  blast,  sudden  and  nocturnal,  from 
the  north  freezes  them  in  the  very  months  of  Aug- 
ust and  September;  that  is  to  say,  when  surrounded 
by  summer  haze,  or  under  a  cloud  sprinkled  with 
twinkling  stars,  the  laborers  believe  their  crops 
secure  and  slumber,  lulled  by  the  most  pleasing 
anticipations.     When  they  wake  the  corn  is  lost; 


164  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

in  twenty-four  hours  they  pass  from  wealth  to 
misery;  the  herd  perishes;  field  labor  stops;  the 
laborers  go  forth  to  rob  on  the  highways,  to  swell 
the  ranks  of  the  insurgents,  or  to  beg  on  the  street, 
according  to  the  character  of  the  government. 
Before  the  days  of  the  railroads,  droughts  were 
the  cause  of  local  insurrections,  which  today  are 
impossible,  because  grain  may  be  transported  from 
one  district  to  another  —  or  even  to  the  whole 
country  from  a  foreign  land,  as  happened  in  1894, 
when  $30,000,000  worth  of  American  maize  was 
imported.  However,  the  evil  is  not  easily  reme- 
diable, and  a  general  drought,  or  a  series  of  local 
dry  seasons,  might,  as  Bulnes  indicates,  mortally 
wound  our  nascent  nationality.  Agriculture  then, 
thanks  to  the  droughts  of  the  fields  on  the  one 
hand,  but  to  the  abrupt  atmospheric  changes  on 
the  other,  escapes  calculation  and  prevision;  and 
there  are  converted  into  an  enterprise  as  insecure 
as  mining,  labors  which  have  ever  constituted  the 
principal  honest  means  of  livelihood  for  Mex- 
icans. 

*  *  *  * 

In  fine,  and  ever  due,  wholly  or  in  part,  to  the 
atmosphere,  the  Mexican  of  the  Central  Plateau 
—  and  so  much  the  less  as  the  altitude  of  the  re- 
gion where  he  lives  is  greater  —  has  never  been 
able  to  count  upon  the  future,  either  for  his  life, 
or  for  his  health,  or  for  his  fields,  or  for  his  mines, 
or  for  his  daily  bread;  and  the  apparent  lack  of 


JULIO    GUERRERO.  I  65 

uniformity  ¡n  the  phenomena  of  nature,  experi- 
enced through  generations,  has  developed  in  him 
finally  a  standard  of  judgment,  composed  of  simple 
coexistences,  which,  in  turn,  has  forged  the  fixed 
belief  that  all  in  nature  is  uncertain  and  capricious. 
As  a  logical  consequence,  there  has  arisen  an  un- 
conquerable tendency  toward  the  only  manner  in 
his  power  for  reproducing  In  the  same  unpredict- 
able form  the  contingencies  of  fortune  and  misfor- 
tune of  life,  so  far  at  least  as  concerns  wealth  and 
misery  —  that  is,  to  gaming;  and  thus  may  be  ex- 
plained the  extent  of  this  vice  in  Mexico. 

Mexico's  lowest  class. 

A,  (a).  Unfortunate  men  and  women  who 
have  no  normal  or  certain  means  of  subsistence; 
they  live  in  the  streets  and  sleep  in  public  sleeping- 
places,  crouched  in  the  portales,  in  the  shelters  of 
doorways,  amid  the  rubbish  of  buildings  in  con- 
struction, in  some  meson  if  they  can  pay  for  the 
space  three  or  four  centavos  a  night,  or  stowed 
away  in  the  house  of  some  compadre  or 
friend.  They  are  beggars,  gutter-snipes,  paper- 
sellers,  grease-buyers,  rag-pickers,  scrub-women, 
etc.  With  difficulty  they  earned  twenty  or  thirty 
centavos  daily;  now  they  may  receive  more,  but 
the  general  rise  in  prices  leaves  them  In  the  same 
condition  of  misery.  They  are  covered  with  rags, 
they  scratch  themselves  constantly,  in  their  tangled 


1 66  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

hair  they  carry  the  dust  and  mud  of  every  quarter 
of  the  city.  They  never  bathe  themselves  save 
when  the  rain  drenches  them,  and  their  bare  feet 
are  cracked  and  calloused,  and  assume  the  color  of 
the  ground.  In  general,  they  do  not  attain  to  an 
old  age,  but  to  a  precocious  decrepitude,  worn  out 
by  syphilis,  misery,  and  drink. 

The  men  and  women  of  this  class  have  com- 
pletely lost  modesty;  their  language  is  that  of  the 
drinking-house;  they  live  in  sexual  promiscuity,  get 
drunk  daily,  frequent  the  lowest  pulquerías  of  the 
meanest  quarters;  they  quarrel  and  are  the  chief 
causes  of  disorders;  they  form  the  ancient  class  of 
Mexican  léperos;  from  their  bosom  the  ranks  of 
petty  thieves  and  pickpockets  are  recruited,  and 
they  are  the  industrious  plotters  of  important 
crimes.  They  are  insensible  to  moral  suffering, 
and  physical  suffering  pains  them  but  little,  and 
pleasures  give  them  little  joy.  Venereal  disease 
and  abortion  render  the  women  of  the  group  re- 
fractory to  motherhood ;  paternity  is  impossible  on 
account  of  the  promiscuity  in  which  they  live ;  these 
two  natural  springs  of  altruism  destroyed,  they  are 
indifferent  to  humane  sentiments  and  egoistic  in  the 
animal  fashion. 

Ev-erywhere  they  may  be  seen,  the  repulsive 
feature  of  our  streets.  In  speaking  they  reveal  a 
dwarfed  intelligence,  as  sadly  ruined  by  their  life 
as  is  their  body.  Their  ideas  are  rudimentary 
notions   derived    from   the   common   talk   of   the 


JULIO    GUERRERO.  I  67 

Streets,  comments  on  public  events  —  the  escape  of 
one  criminal,  the  sentence  of  another,  the  deporta- 
tion of  their  companions,  the  capture  of  some 
"  crook."  They  are  godless,  with  feeble  super- 
stition regarding  the  saints  depicted  on  their 
scapulars  or  the  medal  of  the  rosary,  which  they 
wear  beneath  their  filthy  shirt.  Their  number  is 
enormous;  they  constitute  the  dregs  of  the  laboring 
classes,  and  their  presence  betrays  the  vortices  of 
vice,  where  the  outcasts  of  civilization  are  dragged 
down. 


i68 


MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 


ALEJANDRO  VILLASENOR  Y  VILLASE- 
ÑOR. 


This  well-known  journalist  was  born  in  Mexico, 
July  15,  1864.  His  education  was  gained  in  the 
Colegio  de  la  Sociedad  Católica  (School  of  the 
Catholic  Society),  the  Escuela  Nacional  Prepara- 
toria (the  National  Preparatory  School),  and  the 
Escuela  Nacional  de  Jurisprudencia  (National 
School  of  Jurisprudence).  He  received  the  title 
of  Advocate,  July  7,  1887.  \Yhile  still  a  student, 
¡n  18S5  and  1886,  he  assisted  upon  the  staff  of 


A.    VILLASEÑOR   Y   VILLASENOR.  1 69 

the  Boletín  de  la  Juventud  Católica  (Catholic 
Youths  Bulletin).  In  March,  1889,  he  became 
associated  with  the  editorial  management  of  El 
Tiempo  (The  Time), with  which  he  still  continues. 
He  has  also  written  many  articles  for  other  lead- 
ing periodicals.  In  October,  1895,  ^e  founded 
La  Tribuna  (The  Tribune),  which  was  not  a 
financial  success.  An  article  in  this  was  the  cause 
of  his  imprisonment  in  the  famous  city  prison  of 
Belem. 

Señor  Villaseñor  y  Villaseñor  is  a  member  of 
various  learned  and  literary  societies  and  has  par- 
ticipated, as  a  delegate,  in  several  important  con- 
gresses. Among  the  latter  is  the  First  Catholic 
Congress  held  in  the  city  of  Puebla,  in  February, 

1903- 

Señor  Villaseñor  y  Villaseñor  is  an  industrious 
writer.  His  contributions  to  El  Tiempo  alone 
number  more  than  seven  thousand.  Of  books,  he 
has  written  Asunto  Poirier  (The  Poirier  Inci- 
dent), La  cuestión  de  Belice  (The  Belize  Ques- 
tion), Guillermo;  memorias  de  un  estudiante 
(William:  recollections  of  a  student).  Estudios 
históricos  (Historical  Studies),  Gobernantes  de 
México  (Governors  of  Mexico),  Los  Condes  de 
Santiago  (The  Counts  of  Santiago),  Reclama- 
ciones á  Mexico  por  los  fondos  de  California  (The 
California  Funds  Claims  Against  Mexico).  This 
last  is  of  high  importance,  being  an  exhaustive 
discussion  of  this  international  question  —  the  first 


I  yo  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

to  be  submitted  to  The  Hague  tribunal  for  settle- 
ment. It  is  particularly  in  questions  of  public 
policy,  in  history,  and  in  biography,  that  our  author 
is  at  his  happiest.  Our  selections  are  taken  from 
Estudios  históricos. 

ANTÓN   LIZARDO. 

We  have  intentionally  been  brief  in  expressing 
our  opinion  regarding  the  attack  at  Antón  Lizardo 
and  have  been  full  in  the  presentation  of  docu- 
mentary evidence;  in  this  manner  remembering 
that  these  documents  proceed  from  unimpeachable 
sources,  a  clear  and  full  realization  will  result,  that 
what  took  place  at  Antón  Lizardo  was  not  so  sim- 
ple a  matter  as  the  liberal  party  desires  to  make  it 
appear. 

In  instigating  foreign  warships  to  seize  vessels 
in  Mexican  waters,  the  government  of  Juarez  per- 
mitted the  national  independence,  sovereignty,  and 
dignity  to  be  outraged  by  the  soldiers,  officers,  and 
warships  of  the  United  States;  it  betrayed  its  coun- 
try, permitting  an  assault  against  its  sovereignty 
and  humiliated  the  nation  by  invoking  foreign 
mercenaries  to  assist  it  and  to  treat  Mexicans  with 
profound  contempt,  and  to  shed  Mexican  blood, 
since  those  wounded  on  board  the  Miramon  w^ere 
compatriots;  and  those  same  strangers  still  pre- 
serve among  their  trophies  taken  from  Mexico,  the 
flags  of  that  vessel. 


A.    VILLASENÜR    Y    VILLASENOR.  I7I 

We  believe  that,  after  the  publication  of  this 
study,  no  one  will  venture  to  deny,  as  recently  was 
done,  that  the  Juarists  took  part  in  the  Antón 
Lizardo  incident;  that  Turner's  intervention  com- 
pletely thwarted  the  plans  of  Miramon,  as  a  work 
written  by  a  well-known  liberal  confesses,  and  gave 
great  courage  to  the  Juarists;  no  one  will  again 
venture  to  say  that  Marin  was  a  pirate  and  that  the 
commander  of  the  Saratoga  did  right;  this  assault 
was  not  merely  a  partisan  measure,  as  those  who 
are  ignorant  of  historical  facts  or  filled  with  bad 
faith  pretend  to  believe,  seeing  in  it  an  insignificant 
event  without  serious  consequences. 

It  was  not  at  Silao  or  Calpuldlpam  that  the  con- 
servative party  was  defeated,  but  at  Antón  Li- 
zardo; nor  was  it  the  soldiers  of  Gonzales  Ortega 
and  Zaragoza  who  routed  them,  but  the  marines 
under  orders  of  Turner. 

The  Juarist  party,  beaten  at  all  points  by  Mira- 
mon, Castillo,  Márquez,  Negrete,  Robles,  Chacon, 
etc.,  at  the  beginning  of  the  year  i860  held  no 
population  of  importance,  and  its  directory  was 
confined  to  the  plaza  of  Vera  Cruz  with  the  im- 
mediately adjacent  region,  and  it  was  recognized 
by  the  United  States  alone.  On  account  of  the 
MacLane-Ocampo  1  reaty,  which  was  then  await- 
ing ratification  by  the  United  States  Senate  and 
with  which  we  shall  occupy  ourselves  in  the  follow- 
ing pages,  public  opinion  had  declared  itself,  in 
the  most  unifomi  manner  throughout  the  whole 


172  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

country,  against  the  liberal  doctrines,  which  only 
produced  as  their  bitter  fruit  the  loss  of  our  terri- 
tory and  almost  that  of  our  independence. 

In  order  to  end  at  once  these  parricidal  ten- 
dencies and  to  bring  to  a  conclusion  the  bloody 
civil  war,  which  was  destroying  the  nation,  there 
was  only  necessary  the  effort,  which  the  conserva- 
tive government  was  making,  to  conduct  the  siege 
of  Vera  Cruz  by  land  and  sea.  Under  circum- 
stances so  serious  for  the  constitutionalist  party, 
the  assault  by  Turner  and  the  protection  given  by 
President  Buchanan,  gave  new  life  to  this  party, 
and  a  series  of  disasters  like  that  at  Silao  or  of 
defections  like  that  of  the  cavalry  at  Calpulálpam, 
opened  to  it  the  gates  of  the  capital;  but  did  not 
give  it  the  final  triumph,  since  the  strife  still  con- 
tinued. 

And,  looking  a  little  deeper,  it  is  seen  that  the 
events  of  Antón  Lizardo  had  graver  consequences 
than  might  be  imagined;  they  brought  on  the 
European  intervention.  They  emphasized  the 
ideas  expressed  by  Buchanan  in  his  message  to 
Congress  of  December  4,  1859,  and  the  uncon- 
cealed tendencies  of  the  democrats  in  the  direction 
of  a  North  American  interv^ention  were  no  longer 
mere  theories,  but  began  to  translate  themselves 
into  facts.  Antón  Lizardo  and  the  MacLane 
Treaty  made  Europe  and  the  conser^-ative  lovers 
of  their  country  see  that  Mexican  independence 
was  threatened  and  it  was  then  that  it  was  thought 


A.    VILLASENOR    Y    VILLASENOR.  1 73 

that  a  radical  remedy  would  save  the  imperilled 
nation,  and  certain  combinations,  already  forgot- 
ten, were  recalled. 

The  triumph  of  the  party  of  demagoguery  and 
the  errors  which  it  committed  precipitated  events 
and  brought  on  the  European  intervention,  which, 
when  studied  with  care  as  to  its  causes,  is  clearly 
demonstrated  to  be  due  to  the  liberal  party. 

The  name  of  Antón  Lizardo  will  remain,  indeli- 
ble on  the  pages  of  our  history,  a  stain  of  dishonor 
for  that  party,  which  nothing  and  no  one  can  ever 
remove. 

THE  POLICY  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES. 

The  United  States  have  adopted  a  special  policy 
with  reference  to  Mexican  affairs,  a  policy  which 
may,  in  time,  produce  results  unhappy  for  us. 

During  the  time  of  the  Three  Years  War,  the 
democratic  party,  which  brought  so  many  misfor- 
tunes upon  that  country  and  America,  was  in  power 
in  the  North  American  Union.  After  restless  and 
ambitious  presidents,  like  Jackson,  Monroe,  and 
Van  Buren,  who,  if  they  had  found  their  nation 
more  powerful,  would  have  embroiled  it  in  long 
and  bloody  wars  of  conquest,  came  Polk,  who 
brought  the  war  with  Mexico  to  an  end  and 
snatched  from  us  more  than  one-half  our  territory; 
in  vain  honorable  men,  like  Henry  Clay,  Daniel 
Webster,  and  others,  opposed  that  iniquitous  war 


174  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

which  has  been  justly  condemned  by  notable  men 
in  our  sister  nation. 

Already  owners  of  the  "  Far  West "  and  of  a 
great  part  of  the  coast  of  the  great  ocean,  rich 
by  the  discovery  of  gold  deposits  in  California, 
inflated  with  pride  on  account  of  the  great  exten- 
sion already  gained  by  their  country,  believing 
themselves  the  absolute  arbiters  of  the  destinies  of 
the  Americas,  and  viewing  with  disdain  the  old 
nations  of  Europe,  to  which  they  owe  everything, 
from  their  population  to  their  freedom,  they  seri- 
ously thought  of  putting  into  practice  the  theory 
of  "  manifest  destiny  "  and  of  making  the  starry 
banner  float  from  the  Niagara  and  the  Saint  Law- 
rence to  Panama. 

The  Mexican  enterprise,  which  had  resulted  so 
favorably  for  them,  was  the  school  in  which  were 
educated  many  of  the  adventurers,  who  afterward 
gave  themselves  to  filibustering,  and  the  example 
which  many  others,  who  through  more  than  a 
decade  disturbed  Latin-American  countries,  set  be- 
fore themselves  for  imitation.  The  government 
in  Washington,  which  observed  this  tendency  with 
singular  pleasure,  while  publicly  reprobating,  in 
secret  nourished  and  aided  It. 

During  Polk's  administration,  the  government 
itself  had  given  an  exhibition  of  the  ends  wjiich  It 
pursued,  proposing  to  Spain  to  purchase  the  Island 
of  Cuba  at  the  price  of  one  hundred  million  dol- 
lars, a  proposition  which  that  nation  did  not  choose 


A.    VILLASENOR    Y    VILLASENOR.  1 75 

to  entertain.  This  was  but  the  prelude  to  the 
aggressive  policy  which  the  people  of  the  United 
States  adopted  in  their  relations  with  other  nations, 
even  attempting  to  mix  themselves  in  European 
affairs. 

The  revolution  of  Hungary  and  the  efforts  of 
Louis  Kossuth  met  an  echo  in  the  United  States, 
and  matters  were  carried  even  to  the  point  of  pro- 
posing to  aid  the  Hungarian  agitator  and  his  parti- 
sans to  liberate  that  country  from  Austrian  domi- 
nation; it  was  necessary  for  Francis  Joseph's  go\-- 
ernment  to  assume  a  vigorous  attitude  and  for  the 
nations  of  Europe  to  show  dissatisfaction  before 
these  plans  were  abandoned,  and  Kossuth,  instead 
of  aid,  received  only  a  refuge  in  the  United  States. 

The  island  of  Cuba  was,  and  yet  is,  too  valuable 
a  prize  to  escape  the  eyes  of  the  rapacious  Yan- 
kees; underhandedly  they  aided  Narciso  López  to 
organize  his  expedition,  and  it  was  only  when 
everything  was  practically  arranged,  that,  for  the 
sake  of  appearances,  President  Taylor  issued  a 
proclamation,  on  the  nth  of  August,  1850,  for- 
bidding the  fitting  out  of  expeditions  to  agitate 
that  island  and  certain  Mexican  provinces. 

Notwithstanding  this  proclamation,  López  kept 
on  and  completed  his  preparations  and  openly 
sailed  from  New  Orleans,  by  daylight;  defeated, 
after  the  attack  of  Cárdenas,  he  found  a  secure 
refuge  for  himself,  his  partisans,  and  his  rich  booty, 
on  American  soil,  and  it  was  only  after  his  second 


176  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

attempt  that  he  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Spanish 
authorities. 

Gen.  Quitman,  one  of  the  generals  of  the  Mexi- 
can War,  was  accused  of  having  taken  part  in  an 
expedition;  although  the  fact  was  rrotorious  and 
the  accused  was  arrested  on  February  3,  185 1,  the 
jury  discharged  him. 

Fillmore's  administration  demanded  the  Island 
of  Lobos  from  Peru;  the  annexation  of  the  Ha- 
waiian Archipelago  was  vigorously  agitated;  with 
Mexico  the  voided  Garay  Concession  was  disputed 
and  no  concealment  was  made  of  the  intention  to 
secure  possession  of  a  right  of  way  across  the 
Isthmus  of  Tehuantepec,  and  as  little  concealment 
was  made  relative  to  the  desire  of  right  of  way  in 
Nicaragua  and  Honduras  at  points  where  inter- 
oceanic  communication  was  believed  to  be  easy; 
it  was  left  to  the  Governor  of  Texas,  Lane,  to  gain 
possession  of  the  Mesilla  Valley  and  to  qualify  as 
aggressive  the  conduct  of  General  Santa  Anna  and 
of  the  Governor  of  Chihuahua,  because  they  pro- 
tested against  such  an  invasion  and  made  military 
preparations;  Edward  Everett,  Secretary  of  State, 
refused  to  take  part  in  the  convention  to  which 
France  and  Great  Britain  invited  the  United  States, 
to  guarantee  to  Spain  the  control  of  the  Island  of 
Cuba  and  to  prevent  the  island  from  passing  to 
the  power  of  any  other  nation;  the  notes  of  these 
nations  relative  to  the  convention  were  Insolently 
answered;  their  conquests  in  the  present  century 


A.   VILLASENOR   Y   VILLASENOR.  1 77 

were  enumerated,  and  the  advantages  which  the 
acquisition  of  Cuba  had  to  the  United  States,  it 
being  asserted  without  conceahnent  "  that  it  was 
essential  for  her  own  security ."  When,  at 
Ostende,  the  plenipotentiaries  of  the  United  States, 
accredited  to  the  governments  of  Spain,  France, 
and  England,  were  treating  of  the  purchase  of  the 
Antillean  island,  for  the  sum  of  twenty  million  dol- 
lars, the  leaders  of  these  plenipotentiaries,  Mr. 
Soule,  was  profoundly  irritated  because  negotia- 
tions in  the  matter  were  not  actively  undertaken. 

So  much  in  regard  to  the  direct  participation 
taken  by  the  American  government  in  these  move- 
ments, tending  solely  to  augment  the  territory  and 
the  power  of  the  Yankees  on  sea  and  land;  as  re- 
gards the  expeditions  and  agitations  undertaken  by 
private  parties  with  the  indirect  support  of  that 
government,  the  list  is  as  long  as  it  is  instructive. 

Apart  from  the  attempts  of  Narciso  López  and 
other  filibusters  against  Cuba,  Rousset  Boulbon, 
although  working  on  his  own  account,  drew  all  his 
supplies  for  the  invasion  of  Sonora  from  the 
United  States;  Crab  came  into  that  same  district 
with  the  hope  of  conquering  it  and  annexing  it,  if 
he  had  not  been  opportunely  routed  by  Gabilondo 
in  Caborca;  Zerman  had  an  identical  purpose  in 
reaching  California;  Walker  proclaimed  the  Re- 
public of  Lower  California,  placing  upon  the  flag 
of  that  newest  nation  a  single  star,  which,  if  his 
adventure  had  proved  successful,  would  have  come 


I  78  MODERN   MEXICAN  AUTHORS. 

to  be  one  more  star  in  the  North  American  flag; 
routed  by  General  Blanco,  he  went  to  Central 
America,  where  his  presence  gave  rise  to  a  bloody 
war  and  innumerable  disturbances. 

We  should  never  end  if  we  were  to  enumerate, 
one  by  one,  all  the  schemes  which  the  brains  be- 
yond the  Rio  Grande  engender  for  enlarging  their 
territory  and  dismembering  that  of  the  American 
republics. 

Mexico  was  compelled  to  spend  great  sums  in 
combatting  the  filibusters  who  appeared  and  in 
shooting  or  severely  punishing  them;  Spain  was 
obliged  to  send  numerous  troops  to  Cuba  and  to 
constantly  invoke  the  moral  support  of  European 
cabinets;  an  energetic  response  had  to  be  given  to 
the  proposition  to  buy  Savannah  harbor  and  a 
round  denial  to  the  claims  for  the  island  of  St. 
Thomas  and  others  belonging  to  Denmark  and 
Holland;  England  was  forced  to  establish  long- 
drawn  negotiations,  resulting  in  the  Clayton-Bul- 
wer  Treaty,  which  in  part  assured  the  independence 
of  Central  America;  necessarily  this  unchecked 
appetite  for  lands  and  islands  exhibited  by  the 
United  States  caused  alarm  and  apprehension 
throughout  Europe.  Finally,  it  was  necessar\^  that 
the  great  Secessionist  War  should  came,  through 
which  this  nation  expiated  a  part  of  its  great 
crimes,  a  war  which  brought  it  to  the  verge  of 
ruin,  but  which  taught  it,  in  time,  to  check  itself 
upon  the  perilous  descent,  upon  which  Polk,  Tay- 


A.    VILLASENOR    Y    VILLASENOR.  1 79 

lor,  Fillmore,  Pierce,  and  others  had  started  it  — 
men  who,  without  having  the  qualities  of  great 
statesmen,  contributed,  by  their  policy  and  their 
counsels,  to  bring  about  this  great  crisis  to  which 
their  unbounded  ambition  and  the  cancer  infecting 
their  institutions  bore  them. 

It  would  seem  that  those  men  proceeded  with 
the  most  refined  malice,  if  they  were  not  blind, 
when  we  consider  that  they  said  with  the  greatest 
calmness,  as  James  Buchanan,  in  mounting  to  the 
Capitol  on  March  4,  1857,  that  the  great  terri- 
torial increase  which  the  United  States  had 
achieved  since  its  independence  was  due  to  pacific 
and  legal  measures;  now  by  purchase,  now  volun- 
tary—  as  with  Texas  in  1836  —  adding:  "  Our 
past  history  prohibits  the  acquiring  of  territoi-y  in 
the  future,  unless  the  acquisition  is  sanctioned  by 
the  laws  of  justice  and  of  honor." 

This  is  equivalent  to  justifying  the  conduct  of 
Jackson  in  Florida,  that  of  Fremont  in  California, 
of  Austin  in  Texas,  of  Gaines  in  the  Sabine  dis- 
trict, the  continued  spoliations  of  the  Indian  tribes 
in  the  valleys  of  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi  and  to 
the  west  of  the  Alleghanies,  the  scandalous  inva- 
sion of  California  in  1842,  the  no  less  scandalous 
war  against  Mexico,  and  so  many,  many  deeds 
which,  to  the  shame  of  the  United  States,  are  re- 
corded in  her  history. 

Thus,  as  in  the  preceding  chapter,  we  briefly 
made  known  the  situation  of  Mexico  in  1859,  in 


1 8o  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

this  one  we  have  sketched  in  bold  outlines,  the 
neighboring  nation,  in  its  tendencies  and  aspira- 
tions, in  order  that  our  readers  may  the  better 
appreciate  the  bearings  of  the  events  which  we  are 
about  to  narrate  in  the  following  chapters. 


RAFAEL   ANGEL   DE    LA   PENA. 


I8l 


RAFAEL  ÁNGEL  DE  LA  PENA. 


r 

Rafael  Ángel  de  la  Peña  was  born  In  the  City 
of  Mexico,  December  23,  1837.  His  early  edu- 
cation was  conducted  by  an  older  brother  and  his 
father.  In  1852  he  entered  the  Seminario  concil- 
iar, where  he  pursued  the  regular  studies,  including 
laws,  making  a  brilliant  record.  From  1858  on, 
he  devoted  great  attention  to  the  exact  sciences, 
particularly  to  the  mathematics.  For  three  years 
he  taught  Latin  in  the  Colcj^io  dc  San  Juan  dc  Le- 
tran;  in  1862,  he  was  Professor  of  Logic  in  the 


1 82  MODERN   MEXICAN  AUTHORS. 

Escuela  Nacional  Preparatoria  (National  Pre- 
paratory School),  and  was  later  Professor  of 
Spanish  Grammar,  and,  for  many  years  past,  Pro- 
fessor of  Mathematics  in  the  same  institution. 
He  is  an  excellent  teacher,  leaving  a  permanent 
impression  upon  students. 

The  writings  of  Rafael  Angel  de  la  Peña  are 
.didactic,  thoughtful,  and  chiefly  in  the  fields  of  lan- 
guage and  philosophy.  "  His  diction  is  chaste 
and  correct;  his  style  careful,  pure,  and  polished; 
his  form  elegant,  terse,  and  limpid."  Some  of  his 
addresses  have  attracted  notable  attention  and  are 
in  print.  Many  of  his  most  important  studies 
were  submitted  to  the  Mexican  Academy  and  are 
contained  in  its  Memorias  (memoirs).  Rafael 
Angel  de  la  Peña  was  elected  to  membership  in  the 
Academy  in  1875  ^^^^^j  since  1883,  has  been  its 
Permanent  Secretary.  He  is  a  correspondent  of 
the  Royal  Spanish  Academy  and  contributed  up- 
ward of  four  hundred  articles  to  the  twelfth  edi- 
tion of  its  famous  Dictionary.  He  is  a  member 
of  the  Sociedad  Humboldt,  the  Liceo  Hidalgo,  the 
Sociedad  de  Historia  Natural,  and  other  Mexican 
societies,  and  an  honorary  member  of  the  Sociedad 
Mexicana  de  Geografía  y  Estadística.  Outside  of 
his  important  contributions  to  the  Academy  and  to 
the  Dictionary,  his  most  valuable  work  is  Gra- 
mática teórica  y  práctica  de  la  Lengua  castellana 
(Theoretical  and  Practical  Grammar  of  the  Span- 
ish   Language),    published    in    1898,    which   has 


RAFAEL  Ángel  de  la  pena.  183 

called  forth  high  praise  from  the  most  competent 
judges  in  Spain  and  in  South  America. 

THE  MEXICAN  ACADEMY. 

The  Mexican  Academy  has  thought  well  to  be- 
gin the  third  volume  of  its  memoirs  with  a  brief 
summary  of  its  literary  labors  and  of  the  most 
notable  events  which  have  befallen  it  since  the  year 
1880. 

Perhaps  someone  may  think  such  a  sketch  need- 
less, since  —  the  Academy  living  almost  com- 
pletely isolated,  without  holding  public  meetings 
or  participating  in  those  promoted  by  other  liter- 
ary or  scientific  societies,  printing  its  productions 
very  slowly,  and  avoiding  publicity  so  far  as  it 
may, —  it  may  be  assumed  that  no  one  remembers 
it,  or,  if  knowing  that  it  exists,  has  an  interest  in 
how  it  discharges  the  aims  for  which  it  was  estab- 
lished. 

But,  if  such  considerations  inclined  it  to  pre- 
serve silence  regarding  its  internal  life,  it  has 
nevertheless  felt  that  it  should  make  a  report  to  the 
Royal  Spanish  Academy,  as  to  how  it  has  endeav- 
ored to  respond  to  the  high  honor  which  that  body 
extended  to  it,  in  inviting  it  to  participate  in  the 
formation  of  the  last  Dictionary.  It  believed,  as 
well,  that  it  was  under  obligation  to  supply  notice 
of  its  doings  to  its  few  devoted  friends,  who,  far 
from  relegating  it  to  oblivion,  do  not  lose  sight 


184  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

of  It,  but  Stimulate  and  nourish  it  by  the  favor 
with  which  they  receive  its  pubHcations. 

Already,  in  an  earlier  sketch,  it  has  been  stated 
that  the  Academy  has,  by  preference,  from  the  days 
of  its  establishment,  dedicated  itself  to  the  discus- 
sion of  the  additions  and  emendations  which 
should  be  made  to  the  Dictionary  of  the  language. 
It  persevered  in  this  laborious  task  until  the  month 
of  August,  1884,  when  it  remitted  to  the  Royal 
Academy  the  nineteenth  and  final  list  of  items  for 
the  Dictionary.  The  definitions  proposed  by  this 
Academy  were  twelve  hundred  and  eighty-five  in 
number;  of  these,  six  hundred  and  fifty-two  were 
accepted  by  the  Spanish  Academy,  some  with 
slight  modification,  and  six  hundred  and  thirty- 
three  were  not  admitted,  the  greater  part  of  these 
being  our  provincialisms. 

It  is  necessary  to  admit  that  the  harvest  gath- 
ered is  not  large;  but,  though  so  scanty,  it  gave 
occasion  to  mature  studies,  and  long  discussions,  of 
all  of  which  there  remains  no  other  vestige  than 
the  brief  notice  recorded  in  the  proceedings  of  the 
meetings. 

It  can  be  readily  understood  that,  as  the  Diction- 
ary invades  the  domains  of  the  sciences  and  of 
philosophy,  of  the  arts  and  industries,  we  were 
forced  often  to  discuss  topics  so  heterogeneous  that 
the  only  points  they  had  in  common  were  the  ini- 
tial letters  of  their  names.  Thus,  from  the  word 
Prostesis,  we  passed  to  study  the  word  Positivismo, 


RAFAEL  ANGEL   DE    LA   PENA.  1 85 

considered  as  the  name  of  a  school  of  philosophy. 
The  mere  exposition  of  this  system  and  its  defini- 
tion occupied  long  and  serious  sessions.  Equally 
long  and  exhaustive  were  the  discussions  of  the 
definitions  of  one  and  another  science,  as  that  of 
Biology  and  that  of  Astronomy,  or  those  fixing  the 
acceptations  of  technical  scientific  and  philosophic 
terms.  Such  discussions  were  often  interrupted 
by  dissertations  and  discourses  upon  points  of 
Literature,  Philology,  and  the  History  of  our 
Literature.  Some  of  these  productions  have  been 
printed  in  two  preceding  volumes  of  the  Memoirs. 

The  Academy  has  also  undertaken  to  discover 
and  bring  together  materials  for  forming  the  his- 
tory of  the  national  literature  and  an  example  of 
this  activity  is  the  article  entitled  Francisco  Ter- 
razas and  other  poets  of  the  Sixteenth  Century. 
Señor  Don  Francisco  Pimentel,  member  de  numero 
of  this  corporation  has  taken  the  lead  in  this  and 
has,  unaided,  written  that  history  and  has  begun 
to  print  it. 

With  the  publication  of  the  last  Dictionary  of 
the  language,  by  the  Royal  Spanish  Academy,  the 
Mexican  Academy  considered  the  lexicographic 
work,  which  had  been  entrusted  to  it,  as  completed ; 
not  so  with  that  which  It  had  undertaken  for  form- 
ing a  Diccionario  de  Provincialismos  (Dictionary 
of  Provincialisms),  which  should  contain,  In  addi- 
tion to  those  current  throughout  the  Republic, 
those  which  have  been  limited  to  a  certain  State  or 


I  86  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

to  a  district  of  whatever  extent  and  importance. 
In  order  not  to  delay  the  pubhcation  of  this  Lexi- 
con, it  was  decided,  as  soon  as  items  were  secured 
under  each  letter  of  the  alphabet,  to  give  the  list  at 
once  to  the  press ;  then  to  make  as  many  more,  with 
new  alphabets,  as  might  be  necessary. 

The  Venezuelan  Academy,  Correspondent  of 
the  Royal  Spanish  Academy,  notified  us  promptly 
of  its  inauguration  on  the  26th  and  27th  of  July, 
1883,  the  Director  being  His  Excellency,  Señor 
General  Don  Antonio  Guzman  Blanco,  then  Presi- 
dent of  that  Republic.  The  Mexican  Academy 
was  delighted  with  such  agreeable  news  and  gave 
a  cordial  welcome  to  the  Venezuelan.  Later  that 
learned  body  proposed  the  establishment  between 
the  two  Academies  of  an  exchange  of  national 
printed  works  and  manuscripts  of  value  for  literary 
merit.  The  Mexican  Academy  consented  with 
pleasure  and  later  sent  such  parts  of  its  Memorias 
as  were  not  exhausted  to  that  of  Venezuela,  and 
also  to  those  of  Ecuador  and  Colombia. 

The  Spanish  Academy  has  given  ours  constant 
tokens  of  esteem  and  kindness,  now,  by  accepting 
our  additions  and  emendations  to  the  Dictionary; 
now,  in  sending  its  diplomas  of  foreign  corre- 
spondents to  those  individuals,  whom  the  Mexi- 
can Academy  recommended;  and,  again,  by  nam- 
ing members  for  newly-established  seats  or  by  fill- 
ing the  chairs  left  vacant  by  the  death  of  some 
Academicians. 


RAFAEL    ANGEL    DE    LA    PENA.  1 87 

Unhappily,  there  has  hardly  been  a  year  which 
has  not  been  mournfully  marked  by  the  loss  of  one 
or  more  members  of  this  body. 

Being  desirous  of  knowing  those  provincialisms 
of  each  State  which  combine  the  conditions  neces- 
sary for  inclusion  in  the  .Diccionario,  which  it  is 
forming,  the  Academy  has  considered  it  necessary 
to  name  as  Academic  Correspondents  persons  resi- 
dent outside  of  the  Capital,  w^ho  are  notable  for 
their  love  of  the  Castilian  tongue  and  for  the 
knowledge  of  it  which  they  possess.  In  this  capa- 
city, the  following  gentlemen  belong  to  it:  Señor 
Melesio  Vázquez,  Archdeacon  of  the  Church  of 
Tulancingo,  Señor  José  María  Oliver  y  Casares, 
residing  in  Campeche,  and  Señor  Audormaro  Mo- 
lina, who  resides  in  Merida. 

In  truth,  the  Mexican  Academy  has  been  able 
to  do  but  little  in  behalf  of  our  language  and 
literature,  but  it  can  present  in  excuse  the  com- 
plete lack  of  all  those  means  without  which  it  is 
impossible  to  achieve  the  ends  for  which  it  was 
established. 

The  indispensable  funds  arc  lacking  to  the  body 
and  the  time  necessary  for  long  and  serious  studies 
is  lacking  to  the  members.  Those  who  compose 
it  do  not  live  entirely  by  literary  pursuits;  some 
give  their  chief  attention  to  their  professional  occu- 
pations, others  to  the  direction  of  affairs  —  per- 
sonal or  other  —  others,  finally,  to  the  discharge 
of  high  oiEces  In  State  or  Church. 


I  88  MODIiRN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

Academies  are,  usually,  liberally  subsidized  by 
their  governments;  they  count  upon  their  own 
sources  of  support,  and  those  who  compose  them 
are  suitably  remunerated.  The  Mexican  Academy 
lacks  everything;  there  only  remains  to  it  the  will 
to  do  what  its  scanty  resources  permit.  Neither 
the  poverty  in  which  it  lives,  nor  the  little  time  at 
its  disposition  of  its  members  and  correspondents 
for  carrying  out  the  labors  already  begun,  discour- 
ages it.  Constant  in  its  purposes,  it  will  continue 
its  labors,  slow,  it  is  true,  but  never  interrupted; 
it  will  continue,  by  preference,  to  collect  materials 
for  the  Diccionario  de  Provincialismos,  and  in  a 
day,  perhaps  not  very  distant,  will  thus  make 
known  how  the  Castilian  language  is  spoken  in 
Mexico. 


IGNACIO    MONTES    DE    OCA    Y    ÜBREGON.     189 


IGNACIO  MONTES  DE  OCA  Y  OBREGON. 


Ignacio  Montes  de  Oca  y  Obrcgón  was  born  at 
Guanajuato,  June  26,  1840,  his  father  being  De- 
metrio Montes  de  Oca,  a  well-known  lawyer,  and 
his  mother  being  Maria  de  la  Luz  Obregon. 
When  at  the  age  of  twelve  years  he  was  sent  to 
England  to  study,  returning  to  Mexico  and  enter- 
ing the  Seminario  conciliar  in  1856.  He  later 
went  to  Rome,  where  he  received  the  degree  of 
Doctor  in  Theology,  in  1862.     In  1863,  he  was 


190  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

Presbítero  at  the  Basilica  of  San  Juan  de  Letran 
in  Mexico,  and  in  1865  became  Doctor  in  Laws. 
For  a  time,  he  served  as  parish  priest  at  Ipswich, 
England,  but  was  soon  appointed  to  a  similar  posi- 
tion in  his  native  city.  He  was  Chaplain  of  Honor 
to  Maximilian  and  Pius  IX  appointed  him  his 
Secret  Chancellor.  Having  raised  Tamaulipas 
from  a  vicariato  apostólico  into  a  diocese,  Pius  IX 
appointed  Señor  Montes  de  Oca  y  Obregón  its 
first  Bishop,  in  1871.  Without  availing  himself 
of  the  permitted  delay  of  one  hundred  days,  the 
new-appointed  prelate  at  once  took  charge  of  his 
exceptionally  hard  field.  He  was  indefatigable  in 
the  discharge  of  his  duties,  making  two  pastoral 
journeys  over  his  whole  diocese,  establishing  a 
Seminario  and  founding  a  cathedral  at  the  episco- 
pal city,  and  restoring  and  enlarging  churches 
throughout  his  domain.  After  this  remarkable 
career  in  Tamaulipas,  he  was  made  Bishop  of  San 
Luis  Potosí,  where  he  has  continued  to  display  ex- 
ceptional energy  and  wisdom. 

Bishop  Montes  de  Oca  y  Obregón  writes  both 
poetry  and  prose.  In  poetry  he  has  published 
Poetas  bucólicos  Griegos  (Greek  Bucolic  Poets), 
Ocios  poéticos  (Poetic  Loiterlngs)  and  Odas  de 
Piudaro  (Pindar's  Odes).  Of  all  three,  editions 
have  been  printed  both  in  Madrid  and  Mexico. 
His  translations  from  the  Greek  poets  are  close 
and  beautiful.  In  prose,  he  has  published  six  vol- 
umes of  Obras  pastorales  y   oraciones    (Pastoral 


IGNACIO   MONTES   DE    OCA   Y   OBREGON.    19I 

Works  and  Orations)  and  a  volume  of  Oraciones 
fúnebres  (Funeral  Orations).  Señor  Montes  de  ^ 
Oca  y  Obregón  especially  shines  in  oratory.  Of 
him  Portilla  says:  "As  a  sacred  orator,  he  pos- 
sesses those  endowments  of  spirit  essential  to  ora- 
tory —  most  brilliant  talent,  vast  and  agreeable 
erudition,  exquisite  literary  taste, —  and  to  these 
spiritual  endowments  he  joins  in  happy  combina- 
tion the  physical  qualities  which  serve  for  their 
realization  —  a  fine  presence,  a  noble  bearing,  a 
musical  quality  of  voice  —  all  that,  in  fine,  which 
constitutes  the  irresistible  enchantment  of  elo- 
quence. All  these  qualities  shine,  in  never-wit- 
nessed brilliancy,  in  his  famous  funeral  oration 
on  the  Literary  Dead,  magnificent  novelty  which 
will  make  an  epoch  in  the  annals  of  sacred  ora- 
tory in  Mexico." 

Bishop  Montes  de  Oca  y  Obregón  is  a  member 
of  the  famous  Arcadian  Academy  of  Rome,  bear- 
ing in  it  the  name  Ipandro  Acaico.  He  was  a 
member  of  Maximilian's  Academia  de  Ciencias  y 
Literatura  (Academy  of  Sciences  and  Literature). 
He  is  a  Corresponding  Member  of  the  Mexican 
Academy.  In  1899,  he  was  Secretary  of  the 
Latin-American  Council  at  Rome.  In  travels  in 
Italy,  France,  and  the  United  States,  during  the 
past  three  years,  he  has  made  several  notable 
addresses. 


192  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

JOAQUÍN  GARCÍA   ICAZBALCETA. 

Great  ¡s  my  satisfaction  at  presiding  over  this 
meeting.  It  is  more  than  two  years  that  you  have 
not  gathered  in  general  assembly;  and  on  seeing 
three-months  after  three-months  pass,  without 
your  coming  to  invite  me  to  your  regular  meeting, 
I  had  come  to  ask  myself  the  question :  "  Do  the 
Conferences  of  San  Vicente  de  Paul  still  exist  in 
my  diocese?"  The  President  General  of  your 
pious  brotherhood  has,  on  various  occasions  in 
Mexico,  directed  to  me  the  same  question  and  with 
that  zeal  which  distinguished  him  has  asked 
me,  with  tears  In  his  eyes:  "Is  It  possible  that 
charity  Is  dead  among  the  distinguished  gentlemen 
of  San  Luis  Potosí?  Is  it  possible  that  there  is 
no  one  who  can  arouse  the  members  and  revive  the 
almost  extinguished  meetings?  " 

The  sign  of  life,  which  you  now  give,  coincides 
with  the  death  of  that  illustrious  President,  and  it 
is  fitting  that,  in  addressing  you,  I  shall  pay  a 
tribute  to  the  eminent  savant,  the  fervent  Chris- 
tian, the  exemplary  member  of  your  conferences, 
Don  Joaquin  Garcia  Icazbalceta. 

Others  have  already  pronounced  his  eulogy  as  a 
man  of  letters,  as  a  historian,  as  the  type  of  a  man 
of  wealth  and  of  the  flower  of  Mexican  aristocracy. 
It  falls  to  me  to  present  him  to  you  as  a  model 
member  of  the  conferences  and  to  briefly  praise 


IGNACIO    MONTES    DE    OCA    Y    OBREGON.      1 93 

before  you  his  charity  and  his  obedience  and  at- 
tachment to  the  Church. 

His  was  a  long  Hfe  and  he  employed  it  all  in 
distributing  benefits.  Rich  from  his  cradle,  he 
preserved  and  increased  his  capital,  without  ever 
extorting  from  the  poor,  without  unduly  taking 
advantage  of  their  labors,  without  ever  practicing 
usury,  that  plague  of  our  society  which  seems  to 
most  tempt  those  who  have  most  wealth,  and 
which  the  Gospel  so  clearly  anathematizes.  In 
all  his  vast  territorial  possessions,  that  dissimulated 
slavery,  so  common  in  some  parts  of  the  country, 
which  chains  the  peasant  for  his  whole  life  to  one 
-master  and  to  one  piece  of  ground  without  hope 
of  bettering  his  condition,  was  never  known. 
Most  exact  in  his  payments,  he  had  further  a  box 
of  savings,  as  he  called  it,  for  each  of  his  em- 
ployees, from  the  humblest  to  the  highest,  which 
really  consisted  of  systematic  gifts  which  he  made 
them  on  the  more  important  occasions  of  their 
lives  or  of  the  lives  of  their  wives  and  children. 
Were  they  marrying?  He  supplied  the  necessary 
expenses  without  making  any  charge  against  them. 
Were  children  born;  did  disease  come  to  afflict 
them;  did  death  arrive?  He  generously  opened 
his  chest  and  alleviated  their  pains  and  necessities. 

The  works  of  mercy  which  he  did  among  his 
own,  he  also  practiced  with  strangers.  Through 
long  years,  the  conferences  of  Mexico  found  him 
visiting  the  houses  of  the  poor  and  liberally  succor- 


194  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

ing  them;  when  he  was  their  President,  he  exerted 
his  influence  inside  and  outside  of  the  Capital, 
maintaining  the  fervor  of  the  old  members,  and 
attracting  new  ones  by  his  fine  demeanor,  h's 
opportune  appeals  and  his  prudent  persistency. 
How  important  is  such  tact  in  those  who  occupy 
the  high  posts  in  the  conferences !  The  most 
ardent  zeal,  unless  accompanied  by  prudence  and 
judgment,  far  from  attracting,  repels,  and  instead 
of  aiding,  hinders  good  service  of  the  poor  and  the 
prosperity  of  the  association. 

Great  as  were  his  material  works  of  mercy,  they 
are  eclipsed  when  compared  with  the  spiritual.  It 
is,  indeed,  a  meritorious  work  to  teach  the  ignorant, 
to  correct  the  erring,  to  pardon  injuries,  and  all 
this  Joaquin  Garcia  Icazbalceta  did  in  a  high  de- 
gree. Not  only  did  the  Lord  give  him  great 
wealth,  but  also  the  inestimable  gift  of  wisdom. 
The  leisures,  w^hich  his  condition  of  comfort 
afforded  him,  were  all  employed  in  gathering  an 
immense  store  of  solid  doctrine  and  in  placing  this 
at  the  service  not  only  of  the  wise,  but  also  of  the 
humble  and  the  Ignorant.  The  devotional  books 
compiled  and  printed  by  him  have  gained  an  enor- 
mous circulation  among  the  faithful  and  have 
greatly  fomented  piety  among  Mexicans.  Printed 
by  him,  I  have  said,  and  this  is  true  in  the  full 
meaning  of  the  word.  Convinced  that  manual 
labor  dishonors  no  one,   he,   personally,   worked 


IGNACIO    MONTES    DE    OCA    Y    OBREGON.     1 95 

at  his  printing,  and,  to  his  talent  and  assiduity,  the 
typographic  art  owes  much. 

All  these  labors,  all  these  studies,  were  placed 
at  the  service  of  the  Church  and  of  the  public  by 
Señor  García  Icazbalceta.  How,  except  for  him, 
would  we  know  how  much  the  early  missionaries 
did  for  the  civilization  and  the  prosperity  of  the 
New  World?  Thanks  to  his  researches,  books, 
and  manuscripts,  long  forgotten,  were  reborn,  and, 
in  circulating,  decked  in  the  typographic  beauty  of 
Señor  García  Icazbalceta's  private  press,  and 
adorned  with  Jiis  commentaries  and  notes,  they 
dissipated  many  prejudices  and  made  those  holy 
men,  the  apostles  of  New  Spain,  who  were  de- 
spised by  the  few  who  recalled  them,  known  to  the 
world. 

Among  them  he  presents  Friar  Juan  de  Zu- 
márraga,  how  beautiful,  how  grand!  Not  with- 
out reason  did  the  history  of  that  life,  so  beauti- 
fully written,  fly  through  the  world,  and,  attract- 
ing the  attention  of  the  highest  dignitaries  of  the 
Seraphic  Order,  to  which  the  first  Bishop  of  Mex- 
ico belonged,  it  was  translated  by  one  of  them  into 
the  Tuscan  and,  in  that  idiom,  circulated  about  the 
Vatican  and  throughout  the  whole  Italian  penin- 
sula. 

Such  pious  undertakings  could  not  fail  to  arouse 
the  envy  of  the  world  —  and  of  hell.  The  demon, 
disguised  as  an  angel  of  light,  clothed  in  a  re- 
ligious garb,  attacked  him,  as  envy  ever  attacks, 


196  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

with  bitterness,  with  acrimony,  with  implacable 
cruelty.  What  he  had  published  was  malinter- 
preted  and  what  he  had  not  -jcritten  was  thrown 
into  his  face;  his  intentions  were  calumniated  and 
productions  foreign  to  his  genius  were  attributed 
to  him. 

The  fruitful  waiter  replied  never  a  word,  nor 
even  attempted  to  defend  himself.  At  the  sugges- 
tion of  a  prelate  he  cut  out  one  chapter,  an  entire 
chapter,  from  his  most  cherished  work;  a  chapter 
which  cost  him  long  years  of  study  and  diligent 
labors.  Nor  did  his  sacrifices  end  here.  On  see- 
ing that  those  who  were  most  embittered  against 
him  were  ministers  of  that  Church  of  which  he 
was  an  obedient  and  submissive  son  and  which  he 
desired  to  defend,  he  broke,  forever,  his  learned 
pen.  Ah,  beloved  members  of  the  conferences  of 
San  Vicente,  how  many  injuries  a  misguided  zeal 
inflicts!  To  the  unjust  and  uncharitable  attacks 
of  which  he  was  the  victim,  we  owe  it  that  most 
important  works  upon  the  Mexican  Church  re- 
mained unfinished,  that  documents  of  the  highest 
interest  lie  mouldering  in  dust,  that  your  learned 
President  General  dedicated  the  last  years  of  his 
life  only  to  the  compilation  of  dictionaries  and  to 
grammatical  studies,  which  could  scare  no  one. 

The  Lord  has  already  rewarded  his  ardent 
charity,  his  obedience  to  the  prelates  of  the  Church, 
his  readiness  to  forgive  even  those  injuries  which 
most  deeply  wound  one  who  is  conscious  of  being 


IGNACIO    MONTES    DE    OCA    Y    OBREGON.      1 97 

a  fervent  Catholic  and  a  conscientious  historian. 
Without  the  sufferings  of  Illness,  without  the  bit- 
terness of  the  final  agony,  sudden  death,  though 
not  unforeseen,  which  is  accustomed  to  be  the  pun- 
ishment of  sinners  and  the  recompense  of  the 
righteous,  lately  snatched  him  away.  Although  a 
layman,  he  exercised,  upon  the  earth,  an  apostle- 
ship  more  fruitful  than  that  of  many  who  are  called 
by  God  to  the  highest  destinies;  and  on  receiving 
him  to  his  bosom,  the  Lord  without  doubt  has 
given  him  that  reward,  which  he  offered  to  those, 
who,  without  occupying  a  high  place  in  the  Church, 
duly  fulfil  their  mission,  and,  being  the  last  in  the 
hierarchic  scale,  come  to  be  first  in  heaven. 

That  which  he  could  not  gain  in  this  world  by 
his  persistent  efforts  and  courteous  appeals  to  men, 
he  will  gain,  we  trust,  In  the  better  land  by  his 
prayer  to  the  Almighty  —  the  regeneration  of  the 
conferences  of  San  Luis  Potosí.  May  heaven  re- 
kindle your  fervor,  reanimate  your  charity,  and 
infuse  that  zeal,  as  ardent  as  prudent,  and  that 
respect  to  the  ministers  of  the  Church,  which  ani- 
mated Don  Joaquin  Garcia  Icazbalceta  through 
his  mortal  life.  Pray  for  him,  and  try  to  imitate 
him. 

Mexico's  protomartyr. 

Today,  it  is  fifteen  months  since  I  terminated 
the  longest  pilgrimage  of  my  life,  arriving  at  the 
shores   of    that    enchanted    Japan,    in    which    our 


198  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

Mexican  protcmartyr  was  crucified.  Terrible  are, 
in  all  times,  the  seas  of  the  Far  East.  The 
cyclones,  which,  in  the  century  of  Vasco  de  Gama 
and  Francis  Xavier,  engulfed  so  many  ships,  have 
not  lost  their  force;  and  the  most  that  modern 
science  can  do  is  to  predict  them  by  a  few  hours,  to 
indicate  their  probable  course,  and  to  teach  mari- 
ners, if  their  vessels  are  capable  of  such  speed,  to 
fly  before  these  messengers  of  death. 

Just  so,  steaming  at  full  speed  before  one  of 
these  tremendous  hurricanes,  our  vessel  was  sailing 
the  night  before  we  reached  the  desired  haven  of 
Nagasaki.  Although  we  were  considerably  in  ad- 
vance of  it,  our  velocity  was  not  so  great  but  that 
the  effects  of  what  is  called  the  anticyclone  over- 
took  us.  The  waves  tossed,  the  wind  whistled, 
and  while,  on  the  one  hand,  I  promised  Felipe  de 
Jesús,  if  he  saved  me  from  peril,  to  honor  him  in 
an  especial  manner  on  the  next  centenary  of  his 
martyrdom,  on  the  other  hand,  my  thoughts 
transported  me  to  that  galleon  of  imperishable 
memory,  which,  through  these  same  seas,  bore  the 
saint,  three  hundred  years  ago,  to  the  very  coasts 
whither  we  were  bound.  Before  entering  fully 
upon  the  brilliant  epic,  which  through  good  for- 
tune, it  falls  to  me  to  narrate  to  you  this  happy 
day,  I  desire  to  carry  you  also  on  board  of  it. 

Do  not  expect  to  see  In  it  a  rival  of  the  colossal 
steamers  which  today  plow  the  ocean.  Although 
a  marvel  for  that  time,  it  is  comparatively  small 


IGNACIO    MONTES    DE    OCA    Y    OBREGON.     1 99 

and  shows  not  a  few  defects  in  construction,  which 
render  it  unsafe  in  tempests.  It  is  scarcely  ninety 
feet  in  length  and  its  highest  mast  is  of  equal 
measure.  In  spite  of  criticisms  already  beginning 
to  be  made  among  naval  architects,  the  enormous 
castles  of  the  poop  and  prow  rise  high  above  the 
rest  of  the  ship ;  and,  that  slope,  w^hich  has  begun 
to  be  given  to  the  hull  of  merchant  vessels  destined 
for  the  Indies,  In  order  that  the  waves  in  striking 
may  lose  some  of  their  force,  is  impossible  here  on 
account  of  the  many  heavy  pieces  of  artillery 
which  garrison  it.  Its  hulk,  is  broad  and  the 
means  of  controlling  the  rudder  are  crude. 

It  sailed  from  the  port  of  Cavlte,  In  the  Philip- 
pine Islands,  July  12,  1596,  bound  for  Acapulco; 
and,  though  now  It  is  September  8,  far  from  being 
near  the  Mexican  coast.  It  is  at  33  degrees  of  lati- 
tude, and  the  hurricane  is  constantly  driving  it 
toward  the  northwest.  Almost  from  the  start 
storms  have  troubled  it  and  contrary  winds 
have  driven  it  from  Its  course;  on  this  night 
the  tempest  has  culminated,  and  the  Commander, 
Mateas  Landecho,  though  an  expert  mariner, 
despairs  of  Its  salvation.  The  sails  have  been 
torn  to  tatters,  the  yards  float  in  the  sea,  it  has 
been  necessary  to  destroy  the  masts,  and  the  pumps 
have  been  worked  unceasingly,  in  vain.  To  cap 
all  these  misfortunes,  a  wave  of  Irresistible  force 
shattered  the  rudder,  and  one  of  those  moments 


200  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

has  arrived,  when  even  the  most  impious  of  sailors, 
the  last  hope  gone,  looks  to  God  alone. 

Officers,  soldiers,  crew,  and  passengers,  all 
threw  themselves  upon  the  deck  and  cried  with 
one  voice,  like  Peter  on  the  Lake  of  Tiberias, 
Lord,  save  us,  we  perish.  Among  these  last  were 
two  Augustinian  monks,  one  Dominican,  and  two 
Franciscan.  Of  these,  the  youngest  remained  on 
his  knees,  holding  fast  to  one  of  the  broken  masts, 
his  eyes  fixed  on  heaven,  and  absorbed  in  profound 
prayer.  By  the  gleam  of  the  frequent  lightnings, 
his  manly  face  could  be  seen,  upon  which  were 
visible  traces,  not  only  of  recent  privations,  but 
also  of  long  penances,  and  were  observed  that 
fineness  of  features,  that  ardent  glance,  that 
Roman  nose,  that  sun-darkened  skin,  peculiar  to 
the  Spanish  race  as  modified  in  the  New  World. 
His  companion,  older  than  himself,  and  named 
Friar  Juan  de  Zamora,  has  often  spoken  of  the 
austerity  of  that  youth,  during  the  five  years  which 
he  had  spent  in  Manila,  in  the  Franciscan  com- 
munity. There  he  took  the  habit,  May  20,  159 1 ; 
there  he  made  his  vows,  and  not  content  with  the 
penances  prescribed  by  the  rules,  he  had  given  him- 
self up  to  greater  austerities  and  was  accustomed 
to  make  daily  confession  of  his  sins,  before  the 
Seraphic  Family.  Named  enfermero,  he  had  prac- 
ticed such  acts  of  charity  and  abnegation  with  the 
suffering  and  dying  as  are  scarcely  recorded  of  the 


IGNACIO    MONTES    DE    OCA    Y    OBREGOX.     20I 

most  famous  saints,  and  this  not  occasionally,  but 
through  entire  years. 

On  the  other  hand,  during  the  first  days  of  the 
voyage,  when  the  sea,  yet  tranquil,  left  opportun- 
ity for  jests  and  idle  talk,  the  careless  soldiers 
pointed  at  him  with  their  fingers  and  told  the  story 
of  the  young  Franciscan,  to  one  another,  in  terms 
but  little  flattering.  He  is  the  son  of  Alonso  de 
las  Casas  (they  say),  a  rich  Spaniard  of  the  City 
of  Mexico,  and  he  has  a  very  pious  mother,  who 
came  from  Ilescas  to  New  Spain,  where  this  young 
fellow  was  born.  This  is  not  the  first  time  he 
wears  the  seraphic  habit.  Formerly  he  was  a 
novice  in  Puebla  de  los  Angeles;  but,  after  a  few 
months,  he  threw  aside  his  gown  and  gave  himself 
again  to  the  libertinage,  which  had  distinguished 
him.  His  parents  sent  him  to  China,  for  punish- 
ment, where  not  a  few  of  us  have  seen  him  living 
the  gay  life  of  a  merchant.  They  say  that  he 
goes,  now  to  Mexico,  to  take  sacred  orders  and 
console  his  pious  mother.  We  shall  see  whether 
he  now  gives  proof  of  greater  constancy. 

7  hus  passengers  and  sailors  of  the  galleon  Siin 
Felipe,  painted  the  youth.  Friar  Felipe  de  las 
Casas,  at  whom,  apparently  absorbed  In  medita- 
tion, we  look  from  the  bridge.  The  sea  has 
calmed  somewhat  and  the  thick  cloud  masses,  sep- 
arating a  little,  permit  us  to  see  the  constellations 
of  the  two  bears,  and,  particularly,  the  polestar, 
shining  brighter  than  ever.     The  Franciscan  has 


202  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

his  eyes  fixed  in  that  direction  and  after  a  half 
hour  of  silent  prayer,  he  rises  majestically  and 
pointing  southwest  of  the  Great  Bear  exclaims  with 
prophetic  voice,  "  Look,  look,  our  ship  shall  not 
perish!  We  shall  soon  arrive  in  safety  on  the 
coast  of  Japan," 

"  A  miracle !  a  miracle !  "  exclaim  the  sailors  in 
chorus,  seeing  for  the  first  time  the  prodigy,  which 
Friar  Felipe  had  been  watching  for  a  half  hour, 
and  the  meaning  of  which  the  Lord  had  made 
known  to  him  by  inspiration,  as  in  another  time, 
to  the  Magi,  that  of  the  mysterious  star  in  the 
East.  It  is  a  cross,  an  immense  cross,  much  larger 
than  that  constellation  which  we  call  the  Southern 
Cross;  a  cross,  whose  pale  and  peaceful  glow  at 
first  resembled  that  of  Venus;  but  which  afterward 
appeared  red,  the  color  of  blood,  (such  as  we  saw 
the  planet  Mars  in  last  December),  surrounded 
by  a  refulgent  aureole  and  afterward  enwrapped 
in  a  black  cloud.  It  is  a  cross,  but  not  such  as 
that  of  Jesus  Christ,  which  we  are  accustomed  to 
see.  Besides  the  customary  arms,  it  has  another 
transverse  piece  near  the  feet  and  a  little  protu- 
berance near  the  centre,  all  perfectly  drawn  against 
the  blue  of  the  clear  sky. 

Passengers  and  sailors  rejoice  at  the  celestial 
vision.  A  board  is  soon  rigged  out  as  rudder; 
those  sails,  which  the  wind  has  not  completely  de- 
stroyed are  quickly  repaired;  the  countless  holes 
are  covered  up  and  the  prow  Is  turned,  not  toward 


IGNACIO    MONTES    DE    OCA    Y    OBREGON.     203 

New  Spain  indeed,  but,  in  the  direction  indicated 
by  Providence.  Yet  there  lack  thirty-two  days  of 
stormy  saihng,  but  they  journey  gaily  in  the  midst 
of  dangers,  and  on  arriving  at  the  port  of  Tosa, 
on  October  20,  they  intone  hymns  of  thanks  to  the 
Savior. 

They  journey  gaily;  yes,  but  beyond  all  Felipe 
de  Jesús  de  las  Casas,  to  whom  God  has  revealed 
his  high  destinies.  He  knows  that  martyrdom 
upon  a  cross,  such  as  he  has  seen  in  the  sky,  awaits 
him ;  martyrdom,  the  supreme  recompense  to  which 
we,  who  run  the  race  of  life,  aspire,  but  which  the 
Lord  grants  to  few ;  the  martyrdom  which  Francis 
Xavier  and  his  companions  in  religion  and  apos- 
tolic labors,  sought  with  longing,  but  which  God 
in  His  lofty  purposes  refused  to  them,  to  give  it  to 
Felipe  de  Jesús  and  to  some  companions,  who 
arrived  but  yesterday,  who  did  not  seek  it.  Om- 
ncs  qtiidcin  curnint  scd  uniis  accipit  br avium. 

To  relate  to  you  the  details  of  that  glorious 
martyrdom,  is  what  I  propose  in  this  discourse, 
longer  than  usual.  Do  not  refuse  me  your  kind 
attention.  The  story  is  so  interesting  and  so  bril- 
liant notwithstanding  its  dark  passages,  that  the 
sublimity  of  the  event  will  compensate  for  my  de- 
ficiencies. Furthermore,  as  the  Holy  Virgin  has 
never  yet  refused  me  her  aid,  she  will  surely  assist 
me  in  this  memorable  ccntcnar\'.  Invoke  her 
with  me,  saluting  her  with  the  sweet  words  of  the 
angel  —  Ave  Maria. 


204 


MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 


IGNACIO  M.  ALTAMIRANO. 


Once  and  again  in  Mexico  there  arises,  from  the 
mass  of  the  Indian  population,  a  man  who  leads, 
not  only  his  race,  but  his  nation.  Such  a  man 
was  the  great  President  Juarez,  who  established 
Mexico's  present  greatness;  such  in  art  were  the 
artist  Cabrera  and  the  sculptor  Instolinque;  such 
in  letters  was  Ignacio  M.  Altamirano. 

No  one  who  knows  not  the  Mexican  Indian 
village  can  appreciate  the  heroism  of  the  man  who, 


IGNACIO    M.    ALTAMIRANO.  205 

born  of  Indian  parents,  in  such  surroundings,  at- 
tains to  eminence  in  the  nation.  It  is  true  that 
the  Aztec  mind  is  keen,  quick,  receptive;  true  that 
the  poorest  Indian  of  that  tribe  delights  in  things 
of  beauty;  true  that  the  proverb  and  pithy  saying 
in  their  language  show  a  philosophic  perception. 
But  after  all  this  is  admitted  the  horizon  of  the 
Indian  village  is  narrow:  there  are  few  motives  to 
inspiration;  life  is  hard  and  monotonous.  It  must 
indeed  be  a  divine  spark  that  drives  an  Aztec  vil- 
lage boy  to  rise  above  his  surroundings,  to  gain 
wide  outlook,  to  achieve  notable  things. 

And  when  once  started  on  his  career,  what  an 
enormous  gulf  yawns  behind  him !  How  abso- 
lutely severed  henceforth  from  his  own.  And 
what  a  gulf  opens  before  him!  He  is  absolutely 
alone.  Poor,  friendless,  with  race  prejudice 
against  him,  obstacles  undreamed  of  by  the  ordi- 
nary man  of  talent  confront  him.  Only  immense 
ambition,  tenacious  purpose,  inflexible  persistence, 
unconquerable  will,  can  succeed. 

Ignacio  M.  Altamirano,  pure  Aztec  Indian, 
was  born  at  Tixtla,  State  of  Guerrero,  December 
12,  1834.  The  first  fourteen  years  of  his  life 
were  the  same  as  those  of  every  Indian  boy  in 
Mexico;  he  learned  the  Christian  Doctrine  and 
helped  his  parents  in  the  field.  Entering  the  vil- 
lage school  he  excelled  and  was  sent,  at  public  ex- 
pense, in  1849,  to  Toluca  to  study  at  the  Instituía 
Literario.     From  that  time  on  his  life  was  mainly 


206  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

literary  —  devoted  to  learning,  to  instructing,  and 
to  writing.  From  Toluca  he  went  to  the  City  of 
Mexico,  where  he  entered  the  Colegio  de  San  Juan 
Letran.  In  1854  he  participated  in  the  Revolution. 
From  that  date  his  political  writings  were  impor- 
tant. Ever  a  Liberal  of  the  Liberals,  he  figured  in 
the  stirring  events  of  the  War  of  the  Reform,  and 
in  1 861  was  In  Congress.  When  aroused  he  was  a 
speaker  of  power;  his  address  against  the  Law 
of  Amnesty  was  terrific.  Partner  with  Juarez  in 
the  difficulties  under  Maximilian,  he  was  also  part- 
ner In  the  glory  of  the  re-established  Republic. 
From  then  as  journalist,  teacher,  encourager  of 
public  education  and  man  of  letters  his  life  passed 
usefully  until  1889,  when  he  was  sent  as  Consul- 
General  of  the  Republic  to  Spain.  His  health 
failing  there,  he  was  transferred  to  the  correspond- 
ing appointment  at  Paris.  He  died  February  13, 
1893,  ^t  San  Remo.  His  Illness  was  chiefly  nos- 
talgia, longing  for  that  Mexico  he  loved  so  much 
and  served  so  well. 

Altamirano  was  honored  and  loved  by  men  of 
letters  of  both  political  parties.  Although  a  pro- 
nounced Liberal,  he  numbered  friends  and  ad- 
mirers among  the  Conservatives.  His  honesty, 
independence,  strength,  and  marvelous  gentleness 
bound  his  friends  firmly  to  him.  He  loved  the 
young  and  ever  encouraged  those  rising  authors 
who  form  today  the  literary  body  of  Mexico. 

We  may  not  even  enumerate  his  writings.     He 


IGNACIO    M.    ALTAMIRANO.  207 

produced  graceful  poems,  strong  novels,  realistic 
descriptions,  delicate  but  trenchant  criticism,  strong 
discourses,  truthful  biographies.  He  ever  urged 
the  development  of  a  national,  a  characteristic 
literature,  and  pleaded  for  the  utilization  of  na- 
tional material.  Unfortunately,  his  writings  are 
scattered  through  periodicals  difficult  of  access.  A 
collection  of  them  is  now  being  made.  Our  selec- 
tions are  taken  from  his  Revista  Literaria  (Lit- 
erary Review)  of  1861,  from  a  discussion  of 
Poetry  dated  1870,  and  from  his  well-known 
Paisajes  y  Leyendas  (Landscapes  and  Legends) 
of  1884. 

GENIUS  AND  OBSTACLES. 

Rigorously  speaking,  it  can  not  be  said  that 
popular  neglect  can  be  a  chain  which  holds  genius 
in  the  dust  of  impotence. 

No:  the  genius,  powerful  and  lofty  eagle, 
knows  how  to  break  with  his  talons  the  vulgar 
bonds  with  which  the  pettiness  of  the  world  may 
attempt  to  shackle  thought. 

Thus  Homer,  aged  beggar,  to  whose  eyes  the 
sun  denied  its  light,  but  whose  divine  soul  inspira- 
tion illuminated,  was  able  to  endow  ungrateful 
Greece,  in  return  for  his  miserable  bread,  with  the 
majesty  of  Olympus,  with  the  glory  of  the  heroes 
and  with  the  immortality  of  those  eternal  songs 
which  survive  the  decay  of  the  agonies  and  the 
ruin  of  empires. 


208  MUDIiKN    MEXICAN   AUT11ÜKS. 

Thus,  Dante,  proscribed  by  his  countrymen, 
has  been  able  to  cause  to  spring  from  the  depths 
of  his  hatred  and  his  grief  the  omnipotent  ray 
which  was  to  illuminate  the  conscience  of  his  time 
and  to  be  the  admiration  of  future  ages. 

Thus,  that  other  blind  man,  who,  as  Byron 
says,  made  the  name  Miltonic  synonym  of  sublime 
and  who  died  as  he  had  lived  the  sworn  enemy  of 
tyrants,  in  the  cell  to  which  ingratitude  con- 
signed him,  improvised  for  himself  a  throne,  and 
from  its  dominated  creation  saw  prostrate  them- 
selves at  his  feet  not  only  his  country,  but  the 
world. 

Thus  Cervantes,  the  poor  cripple,  disdained 
by  persons  of  distinction  and  persecuted  by  for- 
tune created,  in  the  midst  of  the  agony  of  misery, 
the  sole  treasure  which  can  not  be  wrested  from 
old  Spain,  more  precious  truly  than  the  ephemeral 
grandeur  of  kings  and  the  imbecile  pride  of  nobles. 

Thus  lastly,  Camoens,  soldier  also  like  Cer- 
vantes, and  like  him  unfortunate,  left  in  his  death- 
bed in  a  foreign  hospital,  as  a  great  legacy  to  his 
country,  his  Liisiadas,  the  most  beautiful  monu- 
ment of  Portuguese  glory. 

Thus  many  others,  dead  through  the  hemlock 
of  contemporary  disdain,  and  compensated  with 
tardy  apotheosis,  have  not  found  obstacles  in  pov- 
erty, in  envy  and  in  defeat;  and  abandoning  with 
thought  the  narrow  spheres  of  the  world,   have 


IGNACIO    M.    ALTAMIRANO.  209 

gone  to  grave  their  names  upon  the  heaven  of 
poetry. 

But  such  ¡s  the  privilege  of  genius  and  of 
genius  only.  The  talents  which  cannot  aspire  to 
such  height,  nor  feel  themselves  endowed  with 
force  divine,  are  eclipsed  in  the  test,  the  same  test 
which  causes  him,  who  is  predestined  for  sublimity, 
to  shine  forth  more  resplendent  and  more  grand. 

And  in  Mexico  the  genius  enwraps  himself  yet 
in  the  shades  of  the  invisible,  or  does  not  belong  to 
the  new  generation. 

Those  of  us  who  penetrate,  with  timidity  and 
difficulty,  into  the  sacred  enclosure  of  poetry  and 
literature,  belong  to  the  crowd  of  mortals;  and 
scarcely  may  we  aspire  to  the  character  of  second 
rate  workers  in  the  family  of  those  who  think. 

Thus  for  us  are  heavy  those  chains  which  for 
geniuses  would  be  but  spider  webs;  discourage- 
ment crushes  us  at  times  —  discouragement,  that 
poisoned  draught,  whose  vase  of  vile  clay  is  shat- 
tered before  the  glance  of  genius,  accustomed  to 
sip  the  nectar  of  the  immortals  in  the  myrrhine 
cup  of  faith. 

As  for  us,  we  need,  not  the  applauses  of  the 
world,  but  the  sympathy  of  our  countrymen,  the 
word  of  encouragement,  the  hand  which  saves 
us  from  the  waves  which  threaten  to  submerge  us 
in  their  bosom. 

Tt  is  not  the  necessities  of  material  life  which 
hamper  us.     We  may  rise  superior  to  those  or  may 


2IO  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

supply  them  with  the  product  of  honorable  labor, 
though  outside  of  literature.  As  little  do  we  seek 
the  patronage  of  the  mighty.  The  gilded  mean 
of  Horace  were  unbearable  for  us  if  we  have  to 
supply  in  exchange  for  it  a  Hymn  to  Maecenas; 
the  palatial  advantages  of  Virgil  would  cause  us 
loathing  if  we  had  to  purchase  them  by  placing  the 
sacred  lyre  of  the  aged  singer  of  the  Gods  at 
the  feet  of  Augustus. 

PLEA  FOR  A  MEXICAN  SCHOOL  OF  WRITING. 

We  do  not  deny  the  great  utility  of  studying 
all  the  literary  schools  of  the  civilized  world;  we 
would  be  incapable  of  such  nonsense,  we  who  adore 
the  classical  memories  of  Greece  and  of  Rome,  we 
who  ponder  long  over  the  books  of  Dante  and 
Shakespeare,  who  admire  the  German  school  and 
who  should  desire  to  be  worthy  to  speak  the  lan- 
guage of  Cervantes  and  of  Fray  Luis  de  Leon. 
No:  on  the  contrary,  we  believe  these  studies  in- 
dispensable :  but  we  desire  that  there  be  created  a 
literature  absolutely  our  own,  such  as  all  nations 
possess,  nations  which  also  study  the  monuments 
of  others,  but  do  not  take  pride  in  servilely  imitat- 
ing them. 

*  *  *  * 

Our  last  war  has  attracted  to  us  the  eyes  of 
the  civilized  world.  Tt  desires  to  know  this  singu- 
lar nation,  which  contains  so  many  and  such  cov- 


IGNACIO    M.    ALTAMIRAXO.  211 

eted  riches,  which  could  not  be  reduced  by  Eu- 
ropean forces,  which  living  in  the  midst  of  constant 
agitations  has  lost  neither  its  vigor  nor  its  faith. 
It  desires  to  know  our  history,  our  public  customs, 
our  private  lives,  our  virtues  and  our  vices;  and 
to  that  end  it  devours  whatever  ignorant  and 
prejudiced  foreigners  relate  in  Europe,  disguising 
their  lies  under  the  seductive  dress  of  the  legend 
and  impressions  of  travel.  We  run  the  risk  of 
being  believed  such  as  we  are  painted,  unless  we 
ourselves  seize  the  brush  and  say  to  the  world  — 
Thus  are  we  in  Mexico. 

Until  now  those  nations  have  seen  nothing 
more  than  the  very  antiquated  pages  of  Thomas 
Gage  or  the  studies  of  Baron  Humboldt,  very 
good,  certainly  but  which  could  only  be  made  upon 
a  nation  still  enslaved.  Further,  the  famous  sa- 
vaut  gave  more  attention  to  his  scientific  investiga- 
tions than  to  his  character  portraits. 

Since  his  day,  almost  all  travelers  have  calumni- 
ated us,  from  Lovestern  and  Madam  Calderón,  to 
the  writers  —  male  and  female  —  of  the  court  of 
Maximilian,  trading  upon  public  curiosity,  selling 
it  their  satires  against  us. 

There  is  occasion,  then,  to  make  of  fine  letters 
an  arm  of  defense.  There  is  a  field,  there  are 
niches,  there  is  time,  it  is  necessary  that  there  shall 
be  the  will.  There  are  talents  in  our  land  which 
can  compete  with  those  which  shine  in  the  old 
world. 


212  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

THE  PROCESSION  OF  THE   CHRISTS. 

If  there  ¡s  one  thing  characteristic  in  the  Holy 
Week  at  Tixtla,  it  is  this  procession  of  the  Christs, 
ancient,  venerated,  and  difficult  to  abolish.  It  re- 
sponds to  a  necessity  of  the  organization  of  the 
Tixtla  Indians,  strongly  fetichistic,  perhaps  be- 
cause of  their  priestly  origin.  This  propensity 
has  caused  the  maintenance  always  In  the  pueblo 
of  a  large  family  of  indigenous  sculptors  who  live 
by  the  fabrication  of  images  —  poor  things !  — 
without  having  the  least  idea  of  drawing,  nor  of 
color,  nor  of  proportion,  nor  of  sentiment.  For 
them  sculpture  is  still  the  same  rudimentary  and 
Ideographic  art  that  existed  before  the  conquest. 
Thus  with  a  trunk  of  bamboo,  with  the  pith  of  a 
calchiial,  or  of  any  other  soft  and  spongy  tree,  they 
improvise  a  body  which  resembles  that  of  a  man, 
give  it  a  coat  of  water-glue  and  plaster  and  paint 
It  afterwards  In  most  vivid  colors,  literally  bath- 
ing it  in  blood.  A  mal  cristo,  mucho  sangre  (bad 
Christ,  much  blood)  ;  such  is  the  proverb  which 
my  artistic  compatriots  realize  In  an  admirable 
fashion.  After  they  varnish  the  Image  with  a 
coat  of  oil  of  fir,  they  have  it  blessed  by  the  priest 
and  then  adore  it  in  the  domestic  teocali},  on 
whose  altar  it  is  set  up  among  the  other  penates 
of  similar  fabrication. 

The  only  day  on  which  such  Christs  sally 
forth  to  public  view  Is   Holy  Thursday  and  In 


IGNACIO    M.    ALTAMIRANO.  213 

reality  few  family  festivals  assume  a  more  intimate 
character  than  the  especial  festival  with  which  each 
native  family  celebrates  the  sallying  forth  of  its 
Christ.  A  padrino  (godfather)  is  selected  who 
shall  take  it  out,  that  is  to  say  who  shall  carry  it  in 
the  procession,  on  a  platform  if  it  is  large,  in  his 
hand  if  it  is  little.  But  every  Christ  has  an  atten- 
dance which  bears  candles  and  incense. 

With  such  a  cortege,  the  Christs  gather  in  the 
portico  of  the  church,  awaiting  the  priest  and  the 
Christ  who  shall  lead  the  procession,  the  one  which 
is  called  the  Christ  of  the  Indians.  When  these 
issue  from  the  church  the  procession  is  organized; 
the  cross  and  the  great  candlesticks  go  before  and 
then  file  by  slowly  and  in  good  order  some  eight 
hundred  or  a  thousand  Christs  with  their  retinues. 
Tixtla  has  some  eight  thousand  inhabitants,  hence 
there  is  a  Christ  to  about  each  eight  persons. 
This  might  well  dismay  an  iconoclast. 

The  procession  passes  through  the  more  im- 
portant streets,  in  the  midst  of  the  crowd  gathered 
at  the  corners,  the  doors,  windows  and  public 
squares.  What  a  variety  of  images!  It  should 
be  stated  that  not  all  represent  crucifixes;  there  are 
also  Christs  with  the  cross  on  their  shoulders,  some 
simply  stands,  others  of  *  Ecce-homos  of  the  pil- 
lar,' but  these  are  few;  the  crucifixes  are  in  major- 
ity. The  sole  respect  in  which  all  are  equal  is  in 
the  rude  sculptural  execution.  There  are  some  in 
which  the  chest  muscles  rise  an  inch  above  the  ribs. 


214  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

Others  which  have  the  neck  of  the  size  of  the  legs; 
some  are  the  living  portrait  of  Gwinplaine  or  of 
Quasimodo;  they  smile  lugubriously  or  they  wink 
the  half  closed  eyes  with  a  grimace  calculated  to 
produce  epilepsy.  All  have  natural  hair  arrange- 
ment, the  hair  arrangement  of  the  Indians,  dis- 
ordered, blown  by  the  wind,  tangled  like  a  mass 
of  serpents  around  the  bleeding  body  of  the  Christ. 

As  to  size  they  vary  from  the  colossal  Alte- 
pecristo*  which  the  Indians  hide  in  caverns,  which 
is  almost  an  idol  of  the  old  mythology,  to  the  mi- 
croscopic Christ  which  wee  Indians  of  nine  years 
carry  with  their  thumb  and  forefinger,  before 
which  are  burned  tapers  as  slender  as  cigarettes. 
All  the  sizes,  all  the  colors,  all  the  meagerness  of 
form,  all  the  wounds,  all  the  deformities,  all  the 
humped-backs,  all  the  dislocations,  all  the  absurd- 
ities which  can  be  perpetrated  iji  sculpture,  are  rep- 
resented in  this  procession.  When  by  the  light  of 
torches  (for  this  procession  ends  at  night),  this 
immense  line  of  suspended,  behaired  and  bloody 
bodies  is  seen  in  movement,  one  might  believe  him- 
self oppressed  by  a  frightful  nightmare  or  imagme 
himself  traversing  -ome  forest  of  the  middle  ages 
in  which  a  tribe  of  naked  gypsies  had  been  hung. 

Callot  in  his  wild  imagination  never  saw  a 
procession  more  fantastic,  more  original. 

Yet  this  spectacle  was  the  delight  of  my  boy- 
hood daysl 

'  Village  Christ 


IGNACIO    M.    ALTAMIRANO.  215 

Then  the  Christs  withdrew  with  their  padrinos 
and  retinues  to  the  houses  whence  they  issued  and 
there  the  family  prepared  a  savory  feast.  The 
atole  of  cornmeal  called  champol  and  the  sweet 
and  delicate  totopos. 

Ah,  General  Riva  Palacio,  never  in  thy  days 
of  campaign  in  Michoacan,  have  you  had  a  more 
sumptuous  banquet  than  that  which  you  have  en- 
joyed in  the  land  of  your  fathers,  an  evening  of  the 
Christs  —  and  of  champol! 


2l6 


MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 


VICTORIANO  AGÜEROS. 


Victoriano  Agüeros  was  born  September  4, 
1854,  in  the  pueblo  of  Tlalchapa,  in  the  State  of 
Guerrero.  His  father  was  a  Spaniard,  his  mother 
a  Mexican.  Young  Victoriano  was  given  good  op- 
portunity for  education,  being  sent,  at  twelve  years 
of  age,  to  the  Capital  city  where  he  attended  the 
Ateneo  Mexicano.  In  1870  he  was  qualified  to 
teach  in  primary  schools.  In  1877  he  entered  the 
National  School  of  Jurisprudence  and  was  ad- 
mitted to  the  practice  of  law  December  19,  1881. 


VICTORIANO   AGÜEROS.  217 

He  commenced  literary  work  when  but  sixteen 
or  seventeen  years  of  age,  signing  his  productions 
with  the  name  "  José."  Using  this  nom-de-plume 
he  published  his  Ensayos  de  José  (Essays  of  José) 
in  1877.  This  was  followed  by  Cartas  Literarias 
(Literary  Letters)  and  Dos  Leyendas  por  José 
(Two  Legends  by  José).  Shortly  after  he  pub- 
lished a  series  of  articles  —  Escritores  AJexicanos 
Contemporáneos  (Contemporary  Mexican  Au- 
thors) —  in  the  literary  journal,  La  Ilustración 
Española  y  Americana,  of  Madrid.  This  was  re- 
printed in  book  form  and  gave  the  author  deserved 
credit.  Confidencias  y  Recuerdos  (Confidences 
and  Recollections)  completes  the  list  of  Agiieros's 
books. 

Renouncing  law  for  literature  Señor  Agüeros 
became  editor  of  El  Imparcial  (The  Impartial) 
but  shortly  after,  on  July  i,  1883,  he  founded  and 
has  ever  since,  conducted.  El  Tiempo  (The  Time) , 
the  most  conservative  of  the  periodicals  published 
In  the  Mexican  capital.  During  the  twenty  years 
and  more  that  have  passed  since  then  his  pen 
has  been  well  employed.  His  editorials  are  always 
carefully  written  and  —  though  ultra-conservative 
—  are  marked  by  thought  and  judgment.  No 
modern  Mexican  writer  uses  Spanish  in  a  more 
accurate  and  graceful  way.  As  a  literary  critic  he 
ranks  high,  though  it  is  difficult  for  him  to  see 
aught  of  good  in  the  radical  and  liberal  movement 
of  the  day  or  In  those  who  are  Its  exponents. 


2l8  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

Deploring  the  neglect  of  the  national  literature 
by  Mexican  readers  Señor  Agüeros  is  attempting 
to  arouse  new  interest  by  publishing,  in  uniform 
style,  the  works  of  the  best  authors  under  the  gen- 
eral title  Biblioteca  de  Autores  Mexicanos  (Library 
of  Mexican  Authors).  The  series  has  passed  its 
fiftieth  volume,  is  being  well  received,  and  is  serv- 
ing a  most  useful  purpose. 

THE  DAY  OF  THE  DEAD. 

Las  ofrendas;  (the  offerings)  this  is  the  cus- 
tom which  gives  a  special  character  to  the  Day  of 
the  Dead  in  my  village.  Those  candles  of  whitest 
wax,  those  human-figure  shaped  loaves  of  bread, 
those  crowns,  those  exquisite  sweets  which  for  six 
days  have  been  offered  for  sale  in  the  booths  in  the 
Plaza  are  to  be  deposited  upon  the  graves  in 
the  cemetery  —  in  such  wise,  that  the  rude  bench 
covered  with  a  cloth  of  the  finest  cotton,  assumes 
the  appearance  of  a  carefully  prepared  table,  fitted 
with  the  richest  and  most  delicate  dishes.  There 
are  placed  earthen  jars  of  syrup,  dishes  of  wild 
honey  In  the  comb,  cakes  made  of  young  and  ten- 
der corn  —  sweetened  and  spiced  with  cinnamon, 
preserves,  vessels  of  holy  water,  and  the  best  of 
whatever  else  the  mother  of  the  family  can  pro- 
vide. It  is  the  banquet  which  the  living  give  to 
the  dead     . 

From  three   in   the   afternoon,    at  which   time 


VICTORIANO   AGÜEROS.  219 

the  bell  of  the  parish-church  begins  to  strike  the 
doubles,  sadly  and  slowly,  as  the  doubles  are 
always  struck  in  the  villages,  families  sally  from 
their  houses  and  direct  their  way  to  the  cemetery 
or  to  the  church  porch,  where  there  are  also  some 
graves.  There  they  traverse  the  pathways  be- 
tween these  and  by  examining  the  crosses  (not  the 
names  nor  epitaphs,  for  there  are  none)  they  rec- 
ognize the  place  where  relatives  or  friends  rest. 
.  .  .  They  then  place  the  objects  which  they 
bear  as  the  ofrenda,  light  the  candles,  sprinkle  the 
grave  with  some  drops  of  holy  water,  and  soon 
after  there  is  heard  in  that  enclosure  of  the  dead, 
the  murmur  of  the  prayers  they  raise  to  Heaven. 
.  .  .  Thus  the  afternoon  passes:  neither 
curiosity,  nor  the  desire  to  see,  nor  other  profane 
pastime,  distract  the  attention  of  these  simple  vil- 
lagers, who,  absorbed  in  the  sanctuary  of  their 
most  intimate  recollections,  pray  and  sigh  with 
tender  and  deep  sadness. 

When  the  evening  shadows  drive  them  thence, 
they  bear  the  ofrendas  to  the  interior  of  the  houses. 
The  lights  are  renewed,  a  sort  of  an  altar  Is  im- 
provised upon  which  are  placed  the  objects  which 
before  were  on  the  graves,  and  other  prayers  and 
other  mournings  begin.  It  is  not  rare  to  see,  high 
In  some  tree  In  the  grove,  or  In  some  solitary 
and  retired  spot,  a  taper  which  gleams,  In  spite  of 
the  night  breeze:  It  Is  the  offering  for  the  ánima 
sola  (the  lonely  soul)  —  that  Is  to  say,  of  one  who 


2  20  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

has  in  the  village  neither  a  relative  nor  a  friend 
who  remembers  it  and  decorates  its  grave.  A  bit 
of  bread  and  a  little  taper,  and  a  prayer  repeated 
for  it  —  this  is  what  each  family  dedicates  to  the 
soul  of  that  unknown  one. 

Thus  do  the  poor  people  of  my  village  honor 
the  memory  of  the  dead. 

THE  STUDENT  AT  HOME. 

The  student  who  returns  to  his  village  is  gen- 
erally reputed  to  be  a  man  of  learning,  who  knows 
everything.  The  most  perplexing  questions  are 
submitted  to  him,  though  they  may  be  remote  from 
the  studies  which  he  has  pursued.  If  the  priest  is 
preparing  a  Latin  inscription,  he  consults  about 
it  with  the  student;  if  the  townspeople  desire  to 
make  a  petition  to  the  town  government,  the  chief 
of  the  district,  or  the  governor  of  the  state,  they 
request  the  student  to  compose  the  document  to  be 
presented;  if  it  is  planned  to  celebrate  with  a  fes- 
tival the  anniversaries  of  some  prominent  person- 
age of  the  place,  they  invite,  first  of  all,  the  newly- 
returned  collegian,  to  pronounce  a  discourse  and 
enthuse  all  with  his  words;  if  some  person  is  seri- 
ously ill,  they  call  the  student  to  examine  the 
patient  and  hold  his  opinion  decisive  regarding  the 
disease.  That  year  he  has  studied  civil  procedure 
and  international  law  in  the  Law  School;  but  what 
of  that?     He  has  lived  in  Mexico,  where  there 


VICTORIANO    AGUKROS.  22  1 

are  so  many  physicians  and  must  know  and  under- 
stand something  of  medicine.  The  judge  of  the 
lower  court  is  about  to  decide  a  case;  ah,  well,  be- 
fore doing  so  he  strolls  around  to  the  house  of  the 
collegian,  and  after  asking  him  a  thousand  things 
about  Mexico,  regarding  politics,  theaters,  the 
promenades  and  driveways,  etc.,  inquires  his  opin- 
ion concerning  the  matter  with  which  he  is  occu- 
pied. 

"  You  can  enlighten  me,"  he  says  humbly. 
"  Perhaps  I  have  not  sufficiently  informed  myself 
regarding  the  value  and  force  of  the  evidence;  I 
fear  that  I  have  badly  interpreted  such  and  such 
articles  of  the  Code.  Come,  let  us  walk  down  to 
the  courtroom  and  have  the  good  will  to  show 
what  is  best." 

"  But  that  will  be  useless,  because  I  know  noth- 
ing of  this  matter,"  replies  the  collegian.  "  This 
year  I  have  been  studying  mathematics  in  the 
School  of  Mines." 

"  So  much  the  better;  thus  you  will  have  a  clear 
head  for  this  kind  of  questions;  because  it  is  plain, 
had  you  been  studying  law  you  might  now  have 
difficulty  in  co-ordinating  your  ideas.  No  excuses, 
no  excuses;  come  to  my  house,  T  have  great  confi- 
dence in  your  knowledge  and  sound  judgment." 

Such  is  the  part  which  the  student  fills,  in  his 
village,  during  vacations.  If  he  yields  to  all  the 
requests  made  of  him  and  speaks  of  matters  which 
he  does  not  understand,  words  cannot  be   found 


2  22  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

sufficient  for  praising  him.  How  wise!  how  hum- 
ble and  good  he  is!  he  refuses  no  one.  If,  on  the 
contrary,  the  student  is  timid  and  only  desires  to 
speak  of  matters  with  which  he  is  acquainted; 
if  he  refuses  to  decide  a  law-suit,  to  cure  a  sick 
man,  to  preach  a  sermon,  then  —  who  so  ignorant 
as  he,  he  knows  nothing,  he  is  good  for  nothing ! 

CRITICISM  OF  THE  NEW  SCHOOL  OF  MEXICAN 
WRITERS. 

Well,  then,  in  my  opinion  the  new  literary 
generation  has  no  importance;  I  discover  no  vir- 
tues in  it,  neither  love  for  study,  nor  noble  ten- 
dencies favoring  the  advancement  of  our  literature. 
Who  can  endure  this  crowd  of  youth  who  write  in 
the  papers  and  who,  in  spite  of  their  ignorance, 
give  themselves  the  airs  of  learned  men?  With 
what  eyes  can  we  observe  their  affectations  ?  They 
think  they  know  all,  but  because  they  have  learned 
jokes  in  the  low  plays,  history  in  the  novels  and 
librettos  of  the  opera,  and  gallantries  in  the  alma- 
nacs and  reviews  of  fashion.  They  believe  them- 
selves men  of  letters  and  poets,  because  they  have 

published  some  article  In  the and  have,  In 

the given  forth  some  verses  In  which  they 

speak  of  their  disenchantments  and  of  their  ennui, 
of  their  doubts  and  hours  of  pain.  Although 
beardless  youths,  they  are  already  miserable,  very 
miserable,  their  complaints  and  laments   for  the 


VICTORIANO   AGÜEROS.  223 

disillusions  they  have  suffered  have  no  bounds. — 
They  speak  everywhere  of  politics  and  literature; 
in  the  Interludes  at  the  theater  they  render  judg- 
ment on  the  play  In  an  epigram,  and  If  some  praise 
it  they  criticise  it,  or  they  celebrate  its  beauties 
when  all  find  it  defective.  And  thus  they  are  in 
other  things;  because  they  believe  that,  in  follow- 
ing public  opinion,  even  though  well  founded,  they 
fall  Into  vulgarity,  and  to  be  singular  Is  what  they 
most  desire. 

Moreover,  these  youth,  neither  by  the  literary 
education  they  receive,  nor  by  the  system  of  studies 
pursued  today  in  the  schools,  nor  by  their  tastes 
and  inclinations,  nor  finally  by  the  models  which 
they  set  before  themselves  for  imitation  in  their 
writings,  will  ever  succeed  in  giving  days  of  glory 
to  our  literature.  Profoundly  inflated  by  the 
praises  of  their  friends,  without  direction  or  desire 
to  receive  It,  their  self-esteem  nourished  by  the  very 
persons  who  ought  to  reprove  and  correct  It,  taint- 
ed with  modern  skepticism,  rebellious,  in  a  word, 
to  the  authority  of  rules  and  of  good  models,  what 
hopes  do  they  offer?  What  class  of  works  are  to 
sally  from  their  hands?  They  do  not  study  nor 
accumulate  new  information;  they  are  not  mindful 
of  the  literary  movement  of  the  epoch;  still  less  do 
they  attempt  to  correct  their  defects  by  following 
the  teaching  and  example  of  the  masters  in  the  art. 
And  If  they  do  none  of  these  things  it  is  useless 
for  them  to  write  and  publish  verses,   since   the 


224  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

progress  of  a  literature  has  never  yet  consisted  in 
the  abundance  of  authors  and  of  works.  Love  for 
study  and  for  work,  close  thought,  good  selection 
of  subjects  and  care  in  expression  —  these  are  the 
things  necessary. 

Criticism,  further,  is  completely  lacking  among 
us;  criticism,  so  necessary  for  correcting  and 
instructing,  so  useful  for  preventing  our  lapses 
to  bad  taste  and  for  forming  good  taste.  Who 
has  thought  of  it?  Who  has  ventured  to  exercise 
it,  here  where  all  desire  praises  and  where  it  is  cus- 
tomary to  lavish  them?  For  my  part,  I  hold, 
that  if  our  literature  has  not  progressed  so  much 
as  it  should,  if  there  are  ignorant,  insolent  writers, 
inflated  with  vanity  and  pride,  it  has  been  due  not 
exactly  to  the  lack  of  criticism  but  to  the  mutual 
flatteries  which  all  have  exchanged  in  the  papers. 
Today,  as  a  French  writer  says,  one  utters  one 
compliment,  to  gain  the  right  of  demanding  twen- 
ty. No  one  ventures  to  frankly  express  his  opin- 
ion, since  friendship,  the  hope  of  obtaining  a  favor, 
considerations  of  respect  and  other  various  circum- 
stances, deprive  the  critic  of  his  freedom;  and  al- 
though he  ought  to  be  severe,  impartial  and  just, 
he  becomes  a  benevolent  dispenser  of  unmerited 
eulogies,  an  encourager  of  unpardonable  defects 
and  veritable  literary  heresies. 

Criticism,  to  give  eflicaclous  results,  should  be 
severe  always,  above  all  here  In  Mexico  where 
many  believe  themselves  endowed  with  the  talent 


VICTORIANO    AGUKROS.  225 

of  Gustave  Becquer,  of  Figaro,  of  Delgas  or  of 
Theophile  Gauthier.  It  should  eulogize  with  much 
moderation,  and  that  to  the  humble,  modest  and 
timid,  because  these  need  kindly  words  for  their 
encouragement. 

PEON  Y  CONTKERAS  AND  HIS  ROMANCES 
DRAMÁTICOS. 

These  suggestions  and  many  others  which  it 
would  be  impertinence  to  present  in  this  article 
were  suggested  to  me  by  the  precious  little  volume 
which,  with  the  title  Romances  dramáticos,  our 
inspired  poet  José  Peon  y  Contreras  has  just  pub- 
lished; and  in  order  to  render  a  tribute  to  justice 
and  merit,  rather  than  to  praise  one  who  is  suffi- 
ciently praised  by  his  very  work,  I  am  about  to 
say  something  about  it. 

Fourteen  pieces  form  the  collection,  and  al- 
though short  they  are  choicest  gems  in  which  are 
brilliantly  displayed  the  most  exquisite  and  deli- 
cate beauties.  In  my  opinion  the  first  is  a  certain 
originality  in  the  form,  under  which  the  poet  en- 
closes a  veritable  drama,  a  terrible  and  sad  catas- 
trophe, a  poem  in  which  the  great  passions  of  the 
soul  are  stirred  and  the  tender  breathing  of  the 
purest  affections  are  felt.  The  form,  I  say,  but  I 
do  not  mean  precisely  the  meter  —  since  it  is  un- 
derstood what  that  must  be  —  but  the  unfolding 
of  the  romance,  the  design  of  the  composition,  the 


226  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

manner  employed  by  the  author  to  present  and 
develop  his  thought.  In  these  lovely  ballads  (for 
such  they  appear)  there  are  no  details;  the  move- 
ment of  the  action,  the  rapid  development  of  the 
plot,  the  violence  and  precision  with  which  the  fig- 
ures appear  upon  the  scene,  demand  few  but  ener- 
getic pencil  strokes  and  do  not  permit  digressions 
nor  long  and  minute  descriptions  of  places  and 
persons;  they  are  like  those  pretty  miniatures 
whose  merit  consists  in  the  exactness,  the  clear- 
ness, the  grace,  with  which  the  scene  or  picture  is 
reproduced  in  spite  of  the  small  space  at  the  dispo- 
sition of  the  artist.  As  little  are  there  inoppor- 
tune references  to  times  preceding  the  drama  which 
develops;  nothing  to  distract  the  reader  from  the 
scenes  which  the  poet  places  in  view :  all  is  actual, 
if  I  may  so  express  myself,  and  only  the  final  ca- 
tastrophe is  presented  in  which  a  passion  or  a  mis- 
fortune culminates,  at  the  conclusion  of  a  series  of 
unhappy  incidents.  For  the  rest,  it  is  easy  to  di- 
vine what  elements  Peon  y  Contreras  employs  in 
his  dramatic  romances;  love  with  all  its  tender- 
nesses, jealousies  with  their  terrible  ravages,  virtue 
with  its  power  and  its  struggles  against  temptation 
and  vice,  the  energy  of  a  manly  heart,  the  storms 
resulting  from  defiled  honor,  from  violated  faith, 
from  lost  hope  ...  all  that  which  the  soul 
feels  in  its  hours  of  joy  or  despair.  And  what 
pictures  he  can  paint  with  a  single  stroke;  how  he 
transports  us  to  those  distant  times  of  Castillan 


VICTORIANO    AGÜEROS.  227 

honor,  of  solitary  and  retired  castles,  of  somber 
and  silent  cities;  what  strength  of  coloring  there  is 
at  times  in  the  scenes  he  paints  and  at  other  times 
what  enchanting  ingenuity,  what  adorable  sim- 
plicity, what  innocence,  what  grace. 


228 


MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 


MANUEL  GUSTAVO  ANTONIO  REVILLA 


Manuel  Gustavo  Antonio  Revilla  was  born  in 
the  City  of  Mexico,  February  7,  1863.  His 
father,  Domingo  Revilla,  was  a  distinguished  au- 
thor and  from  him  the  son  appears  to  have  inher- 
ited his  studious  inclinations.  Young  Revilla 
studied  law,  completing  his  course  in  1887,  but 
the  practice  of  that  profession  had  little  attraction 
for  him,  and  he  has  devoted  himself  to  teaching 
and  writing.  Having  a  strong  taste  for  the  fine 
arts,  he  developed  sound  art  criticism,  and  in  1892 
was  appointed  Professor  of  the  History  of  Art  in 


MANUEL    GUSTAVO    ANTONIO    REVILLA.    229 

the  National  School  of  Fine  Arts.  During  the 
following  year  he  wrote  his  Arte  en  Mexico  (Art 
in  Mexico),  of  which  the  Spanish  art  writer, 
Menéndez  y  Pelayo,  said: — "I  have  read  with 
much  pleasure,  and  I  believe  with  much  profit, 
Arte  en  Mexico,  learning  from  it  new  data  regard- 
ing architects,  sculptors,  and  painters,  of  the  times 
of  the  Viceroys,  who  are  almost  unknown  in  Spain. 
As  well  from  the  novelty  and  interest  of  its  sub- 
ject, as  for  the  good  taste  and  sound  art  criticism 
with  which  it  is  treated,  the  book  deserves  every 
kind  of  praise,  and  will  no  doubt  receive  it,  from 
all  intelligent  readers."  After  ten  years  of  class 
instruction  Professor  Revilla  was  appointed  Secre- 
tary of  the  same  school,  in  February,  1903.  At 
the  same  time  he  was  appointed  one  of  a  commit- 
tee of  three  to  prepare  a  systematic  catalogue  of 
the  works  of  art  belonging  to  the  institution. 

Señor  Revilla  is  a  public  speaker  of  power  and 
some  of  his  addresses  have  attracted  notable  atten- 
tion. Among  these  may  be  mentioned  the  Inde- 
pendence Day  oration  of  September  16,  1889,  and 
that  commemorating  the  forty-third  anniversary 
of  the  Death  of  the  Cadets  of  the  Military  School 
of  Chapultepec.  He  has  also  been  a  prolific  wri- 
ter for  periodicals.  To  El  Tiempo  (The  Time), 
he  has  long  been  an  editorial  contributor,  especially 
upon  topics  of  public  law,  political  economy,  and 
social  problems.  Traveling  In  Guatemala,  he 
was  connected   for  a  time  with  El  Bien  Publico 


230  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

(The  Public  Weal),  in  which  he  published  an 
article  upon  the  Monroe  Doctrine,  which  attracted 
considerable  attention  in  Latin  America.  In  his 
writings  of  every  kind,  Revilla  shows  the  greatest 
care  in  the  choice  of  words  and  use  of  language. 
In  1902  he  was  named  a  Correspondent  of  the 
Mexican  Academy. 

At  present  Señor  Revilla  is  writing  a  series  of 
critical  biographies  of  Mexican  artists.  This  is  an 
absolutely  new  undertaking  in  Mexico  and  the 
work  demands  exceptional  information  and  much 
research.  Volumes  have  so  far  appeared  regard- 
ing the  sculptors  Patino,  Ixtolinque,  and  Guerra, 
the  architect  Hidalga,  the  painter  Rebull,  and  the 
musicians  Paniagua  and  Valle.  This  series  is 
being  published  by  Agüeros  and  will  be  extended. 
Revilla  has  also  written  a  biography  of  Francisco 
Gonzales  Bocanegro,  author  of  the  Mexican  Na- 
tional Hymn. 

Our  selections  are  taken  from  El  Arte  en  Mex- 
ico. 

THE  FINE  ARTS  IN  MEXICO. 

The  three  arts  do  not  attain  the  same  grade  of 
development,  nor  prosper  equally,  at  all  times. 
At  the  beginning,  that  is,  during  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, their  growth  was  slow,  as  was  to  be  expected 
of  all  pertaining  to  a  young  community,  and  they 
were  sustained,  thanks  to  masters  from  the  art  cen- 
tres of  Spain.     But,   from  the  ver)'  beginning  of 


MANUEL  GUSTAVO  ANTONIO  REVILLA.      23  I 

the  seventeenth  century,  these  are  to  be  seen  sur- 
rounded by  disciples,  many  born  in  the  colony,  to 
whom  they  transmit  their  knowledge,  and,  owing 
to  the  increasing  demand  for  works,  which  they 
receive,  the  production  augments  and  a  new  artis- 
tic manifestation  appears,  which,  although  derived 
from  the  Spaniards,  may  be  considered  indigenous. 

During  the  seventeenth  century  is  when  paint- 
ing was  practised  with  greatest  brilliancy  and  the 
schools  of  Mexico  and  Puebla  were  formed,  which, 
although  decadent,  were  maintained  in  the  follow- 
ing century. 

On  the  contrary,  this  eighteenth  century,  is  the 
period  of  greatest  lustre  for  architecture;  during 
it,  ancient  edifices,  begun  long  before,  were  car- 
ried to  completion,  many  others  were  rebuilt,  and 
new  ones  were  erected,  and  there  appears  in  houses, 
palaces,  and  churches,  a  style  in  which  symmetry 
is  but  laxly  observed  and  ornamentation  is  profuse 
or  lavish. 

Sculpture,  long  confined  to  imperfect  wooden 
statues  and  crude  bas-reliefs  in  stone,  acquires  an 
actual  existence  only  near  the  close  of  the  past  cen- 
tury, with  the  famous  Valencian*,  author  of  one 
of  the  most  famous  of  equestrian  statues;  with  him 
also  architecture  assumed  correctness,  simplicity 
and  proportions  in  harmony  with  the  classical 
canon. 

*  *  *  * 

•  Tolsa. 


232  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

The  fine  arts  in  Mexico,  without  having  ar- 
rived, in  general,  to  the  perfection  to  which  the 
Spaniards  carried  them,  .  .  .  cannot,  for 
that  reason,  be  considered  unworthy  of  esteem  and 
study,  since  in  them  are  found  undeniable  and 
many  excellences.  The  defects  met  with  in  them 
are  not  sufficient  to  invalidate  their  merits.  The 
literary  works  of  that  time  are  also  open  to  criti- 
cism, but  no  one  has  denied  the  value  of  the  liter- 
ature of  the  vice-royal  period,  during  which  arts 
and  letters  attained  equal  prosperity.  Echave,  the 
elder,  yields  in  nothing  to  Balbuena;  José  Juarez 
and  Arteaga  stand  forth  conspicuously  as  Sister 
Juana  Inez  de  la  Cruz;  Perusquia  or  Tres  Guerras 
are  comparable  with  Navarette;  and,  as  famous  as 
is  Ruiz  de  Alarcon  in  his  line,  is  Tolsa  in  his. 

TRES  GUERRAS  AND  TOLSA. 

Independently,  in  a  modest  city,  a  creóle  artist, 
Eduardo  Tres  Guerras,  followed  the  same  impulse, 
with  result  and  applause.  Student  of  the  Acad- 
emy, he  had  been  trained  in  painting;  having  at- 
tained no  great  result  in  which,  he  dedicated  him- 
self to  architecture,  which  yielded  him  merited 
laurels  for  constnicting  —  besides  various  beauti- 
ful private  houses  —  the  Church  of  the  Carmen  of 
Celaya  and  the  Bridge  of  the  Laja  in  the  same 
city. 

Tolsa  and  Tres  Guerras  have  many  points  of 


MANUEL    GUSTAVO    ANTONIO    REVTLLA.     233 

likeness;  both,  professing  another  art, —  the  one 
statuary,  the  other  painting  —  dedicated  them- 
selves later  to  construction ;  both  cultivated  the 
same  style,  that  of  the  Renaissance,  and  succeeded 
in  imparting  majesty  to  their  buildings.  Tolsa  is 
more  severe,  elegant,  and  grand;  Tres  Guerras 
better  knows  how  to  express  grace  and  is  more 
audacious.  This  one  sometimes  lacks  good  taste, 
the  other  —  rather  frequently  becomes  heavy. 
Withal,  both  are  notable  architects;  and,  if  one 
wins  constant  applause,  the  other  gains  an  endur- 
ing fame. 

Although  it  might  be  thought  that  Tres  Guer- 
ras felt  Tolsa's  influence,  nothing  is  further  from 
the  truth,  since  Tres  Guerras  had  already  con- 
structed the  Carmen  and  the  Laja  bridge,  before 
Tolsa  had  reared  his  edifices. 

With  these  two  artists,  the  cycle  of  vice-royal 
architecture  ended.  Beginning  rude  and  coarse 
it  developed  brilliant  and  overloaded,  and  ended 
simple  and  correct,  ever  showing  itself  strong  and 
robust  as  the  virile,  conquering,  race  that  pro- 
duced it. 

WOOD  CARVING  IN  PUEBLA. 

When  these  glaring  offenses  against  art  were  not 
only  condoned,  but  authorized  by  religion,  it  will 
be  appreciated  how  great  credit  is  due  to  a  group 
of   modest   and   industrious   artists,    who,    in    the 


234  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

City  of  Puebla,  about  the  second  half  of  the  past, 
and  the  beginning  of  the  present,  century,  without 
good  masters  nor  great  models  for  imitation,  culti- 
vated the  sculpture  of  ¡mages,  forming  their  own 
canons.  The  Coras,  with  all  their  defects,  play 
the  rule  of  restorers  to  respect  of  an  art,  which 
could  not  fall  to  a  more  lamentable  extremity. 
There  were  three  principal  —  though  other  artists 
of  lesser  value  figure  in  turn  —  José  Villegas  de 
Cora,  the  master  of  all;  Zacarías  Cora,  and  José 
Villegas,  who  also  took  the  surname  Cora,  as  an 
honorific  title. 

José  Villegas  de  Cora,  called  in  his  time  the 
Maestro  Grande,  from  having  been  the  founder 
of  the  school,  was  the  first  to  insist  upon  the  obser- 
vation of  the  natural,  from  which  indeed  he  him- 
self took  but  a  general  idea,  leaving  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  details  of  the  projected  work  to  fancy; 
from  this  proceeds  the  arbitrary  character,  to  be 
observed  in  the  minutiae  of  almost  all  of  his  images. 
At  the  same  time  he  sought  naturalness  in  the  ar- 
rangement of  draperies;  that  for  which  he  was 
most  esteemed,  was  the  grace  and  beauty  of  the 
faces,  particularly  those  of  his  Virgins;  which,  like 
most  of  his  other  works,  were  made  to  be  clothed. 

Zacarías  Cora  made  show  of  some  knowledge 
of  anatomy,  accentuating  the  muscles  and  veins, 
which  did  not  prevent  his  figures  from  frequently 
lacking  proper  proportions  and  appearing  to  have 
been  supplied  with  them   from  sentiment  rather 


MANUEL    GUSTAVO    ANTONIO    REVILLA.     235 

than  accuracy.  In  expression,  he  competed  with 
his  master.  His  best  work  was  the  San  Cristóbal 
with  the  infant  Jesus,  which  is  in  the  temple  of  that 
name  in  Puebla. 

Unlike  the  preceding,  most  of  the  works  of 
José  Villegas  were  of  full  size;  in  them  he  handled 
the  draperies  well,  though  at  times  falling  into 
mannerisms,  as  did  Zacarías  also,  in  exaggerating 
movements  and  delicacy  in  them.  His  faces  are 
less  pleasing.  His  Santa  Teresa,  larger  than  life, 
belonging  to  the  church  of  that  name  in  Puebla, 
offers  a  good  example  of  draperies,  and  presents 
the  feature, —  common  to  all  the  works  of  the 
sculptors  of  this  school,  of  a  pursing  of  the  lips, 
with  the  purpose  of  making  the  mouth  appear 
smaller. 

Each  of  the  three  artists  named  had  some  qual- 
ity in  which  he  was  distinguished  from  the  others; 
one  in  the  attractiveness  of  the  faces,  another  in 
the  greater  attention  to  the  natural,  the  other 
in  the  regular  proportions  and  in  having  preferred 
to  make  figures  of  life  size.  After  them  the 
school  decayed  and  died. 

THE  WORKS  OF  TOLSA. 

Tolsa  did  not  make  many  statues,  since  another 
art  robbed  him  of  a  great  part  of  the  time  which 
he  might  have  given  to  sculpture.  The  few, 
which  remain,  suffice  to  show  his  knowledge,  his 
talent,  his  brilliancy  and  his  power. 


236  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

Besides  the  superb  equestrian  statue  of  Charles 
IV,  legitimate  pride  of  the  City  of  Mexico,  he 
made  the  principal  statues  of  the  tabernáculo  of 
the  Cathedral  of  Puebla,  those  of  the  clock  of  the 
Cathedral  of  Mexico  and  some  pieces  in  wood. 
Only  two  of  his  sculptures  were  run  in  bronze,  the 
Charles  IF,  and  the  Conception,  of  the  taberna- 
culo,  the  others  which  adorn  this,  and  which  rep- 
resent the  four  great  doctors  of  the  Latin  Church, 
being  of  white  stucco,  imitating  marble,  and  those 
of  the  fagade  of  the  Cathedral  of  Mexico,  which 
represent  the  three  virtues,  being  of  stone.  The 
size  selected  for  all  of  these  is  the  colossal,  which 
so  well  lends  itself  to  the  grand.  And  this  is  Tolsa, 
beyond  all,  grand  in  proportions,  in  type  concep- 
tions, in  postures,  in  gestures,  in  dress. 

The  horse  of  the  statue  of  the  Spanish  monarch, 
treated  after  the  classic,  is  of  beautiful  outline,  nat- 
ural movement,  graceful  and  animated  in  the  ex- 
treme; as  for  the  figure  of  the  king,  although  a 
little  heavy,  it  is  majestic,  in  movement  well  har- 
monized with  that  of  the  noble  brute,  and  forms 
with  it  a  beautiful  combination  of  lines.  There 
has  been  abundant  reason  for  counting  it  one  of  the 
best  equestrian  statues. 

The  remaining  sculptures  of  Tolsa,  that  is,  the 
Doctors,  the  Conception,  and  the  Virtues,  are  dis- 
tinguished by  the  movement,  which  gives  them  an 
appearance  full  of  grace  and  life.  All  reveal  suffi- 
cient personality  combined  with  conscientious  study 


MANUEL    GUSTAVO    ANTONIO    REVILLA.     237 

of  the  antique.  If  one  sought  to  find  defects  he 
might  say  that  at  times  he  Is  heavy,  ov^er-empha- 
slzes  and  gives  a  bernlnesque  execution  to  his  drap- 
eries. 

In  wood,  he  has  left  two  heads  of  the  Dolorosa 
and  a  Conception,  artistically  colored. 

BALTASAR  DE  EC  HAVE. 

We  have  the  scantiest  personal  notices  of  Bal- 
tasar de  Echave,  commonly  called  Echave  the 
elder,  to  distinguish  him  from  the  painter  of  the 
same  name,  his  son,  who  is  designated  as  Echave 
the  younger;  but  although  these  data  are  scanty, 
they  are  abundant  in  comparison  with  those  which 
are  preserved  of  other  painters  (of  the  time),  of 
whom  we  know  only  the  names.  He  was  a 
Basque,  born  in  Zumaya,  in  the  Province  of  Gui- 
púzcoa, and  besides  being  a  painter  was  a  philolo- 
gist, having  published  a  work  upon  the  antiquity  of 
the  language  of  Cantabria.  He  has  several  sons, 
of  whom  two  were  painters.  Torquemada  states 
that,  at  the  time  when  he  was  writing  his  Monar- 
quía Indiana  (1609),  Echave  finished  his  great 
retable  of  the  Church  of  Santiago  Tlaltclolco;  fur- 
ther. It  is  known  by  the  examination  of  his  works, 
that  already  in  1601,  he  was  painting,  as  the  colos- 
sal canvas  of  San  Cristóbal,  which  bears  that  date, 
shows,  and  that  still  In  1640,  the  activity  of  his 
brush  had  not  ceased,  since  in  that  year  he  executed 


238  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

the  Martyrdom  of  Santa  Catarina  for  the  Domin- 
icans of  Mexico. 

His  fecundity  did  not  prevent  his  pictures  from 
having  that  completeness  and  detailed  study  which 
makes  them  so  agreeable;  yet,  at  times  he  falls  into 
carelessness  of  drawing,  which  cannot  at  all  be  at- 
tributed to  lack  of  skill,  but  to  the  fact  that  his 
pictures  were  generally  destined  to  occupy  high 
places  in  churches,  rendering  unnecessary  a  minute 
attention  to  finishing,  unappreciable  at  a  great  dis- 
tance and  in  the  feeble  hght  of  the  interior  of 
churches. 

Being  of  versatile  genius  Echave  displayed 
varied  characteristics;  sometimes  we  see  him  most 
painstaking  in  outlines;  sometimes  easy  and  firm  in 
handling  the  brush;  now  varied  in  types  and  atti- 
tudes and  again  attentive  to  the  arrangement  of 
draperies;  now  skillful  in  the  nude,  of  which  but 
few  examples  are  found  in  the  Mexican  school; 
now  notable  as  a  colorist,  worthy  of  comparison 
with  the  Venetians.  When  it  suits  him,  he  can 
give  beauty  of  expression,  but  he  does  not  so  per- 
sistently seek  it,  that  it  becomes  a  mannerism. 

He  neglected,  yes,  systematically,  the  figures  of 
secondary  importance,  his  draperies  are  often  hard 
and  confused,  and  his  halos  and  glories  lack  lumi- 
nous intensity.  Without  being  weak,  he  lacks 
strength  in  his  modelling  and  he  does  not  delight 
in  strong  contrasts  of  light  and  shade  —  both  qual- 
ities In  which  the  Spaniards  surpass.     His  pictures, 


MANUEL    GUSTAVO    ANTONIO    REVILLA.     239 

in  general,  do  not  profoundly  move,  although  they 
produce  an  agreeable  impression  largely  because 
he  does  not  highly  develop  expression,  although 
undertaking  highly  emotional  incidents,  such  as  the 
martyrdom  of  certain  saints,  at  the  moment  of 
their  suffering.  Thus  it  is  not  the  expression 
which  most  interests  in  his  San  Ponciano,  San 
Aproniano,  and  San  Lorenzo,  but  the  nude  figures 
of  the  martyrs,  the  character  in  the  participants  in 
the  scene,  and  the  fine  coloring. 

As  an  example  of  feminine  beauty  and  of  un- 
deniable and  palpable  Raphaelean  influence,  may 
be  cited  the  figures  of  the  Saints  and  the  Virgin, 
respectively,  in  the  paintings  of  Santa  Cecilia, 
Santa  Isabel,  Queen  of  Portugal,  the  Porciuncula, 
and  the  Adoration  of  the  Magi. 

In  the  latter,  one  figure  is  seen,  that  of  the  king 
who  adores  the  infant  Jesus,  which  is  admirably 
conceived  and  executed;  type,  expression,  attitude 
and  drapery,  are  worthy  of  a  great  master.  The 
coloring  and  rich  draperies  of  the  Santa  Isabel  and 
of  Santa  Cecilia  arc  also  notable.  But  the  best 
pages  of  Echave,  and  at  the  same  time  the  most 
mystical  creations,  are  his  Christ  praying  in  the 
Garden,  and  Saint  Francis  receiving  the  Stigmata; 
both  compositions  as  simple  as  they  are  beautiful; 
the  figure  of  Jesus,  in  the  first,  is  so  peaceful  and 
resigned,  that  it  has  been  justly  compared  to  the 
celestial  visions  of  Overbeck;  that  of  Saint  Francis 
is  equally  imposing  and  majestic  for  its  great  ascet- 


240  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

icism,  for  the  sincerity  and  truth  with  which  the 
ecstasy  in  which  the  Christ  of  the  Middle  Ages  is 
overwhelmed,  is  represented. 

To  him  belong  also  the  Presentation  of  the  Vir- 
gin at  the  Temple,  the  Visitation,  and  a  masterly 
Conception,  which  is  in  the  State  College  of  Pueb- 
la, of  vigorous  execution  and  strong  light  and 
shade.  Echave  gave  life  size  to  most  of  the  fig- 
ures on  his  canvases,  as  did  —  indeed  —  most  of 
the  other  painters  of  the  school. 

MIGUEL  CABRERA. 

Miguel  Cabrera  exaggerated  the  defects  of 
Ibarra  and  fell  into  others,  because  he  is  more  in- 
correct in  form,  more  neglects  the  study  of  the  nat- 
ural, lacks  strength  in  execution,  and  reduces  color- 
ing to  the  use  of  five  or  six  tints,  monotonously 
repeated;  he  is  weak  in  perspective,  and  in  compo- 
sition never  maintains  himself  at  any  great  height; 
yet,  with  all  this,  his  vogue  was  great  during  his 
lifetime  and  his  prestige  has  not  ceased  today. 
The  religious  communities  outbid  each  other  for 
his  works,  connoisseurs  sought  his  canvases,  the 
University  entrusted  important  commissions  to  his 
hand.  Archbishop  Rubio  y  Salinas  appointed  him 
his  court  painter,  and  when,  in  1753,  ^  group  of 
painters  were  organizing  the  first  Academy  of 
Painting,  they  elected  him  pei-petual  president. 
How  can  we  explain  the  high  opinion  in  which  he 


MANUEL    GUSTAVO    ANTONIO    REVILLA.     24 1 

was  held?  The  reason  may  be  found  in  the  bad 
taste  then  prevalent,  bad  taste  which  in  other  times 
has  even  elevated  a  Gongora,  or  has  caused  that  a 
Lucas  Jordán  shall  be  compared  with,  and  pre- 
ferred to,  a  Claude  Coello.  But  there  is  a  further 
reason  for  the  popularity,  which  Cabrera  enjoyed; 
that  he  painted  prettily,  taking  great  pains  with 
the  faces,  even  when  he  neglected  the  rest,  and 
employing  brilliant  coloring,  pleasing  to  the  crowd. 
To  his  fame,  have  contributed  his  activity  and 
extraordinary  productiveness,  shown  by  the  quan- 
tity he  produced,  but  particularly  by  his  having 
painted  the  thirty- four  great  canvases  of  the  life 
of  San  Ignacio,  and  the  same  number  of  that  of 
Santo  Domingo,  in  the  short  period  of  fourteen 
months.  The  fact  is  not,  really,  so  surprising  if 
one  considers  on  the  one  hand  his  unfinished  style, 
and  on  the  other  that  it  is  in  those  very  pictures, 
that  his  style  reached  its  fullest  expression ;  these 
being,  for  that  reason,  the  worst  we  have  seen  of 
that  artist.  It  must  be  added,  too,  that  other  ar- 
tists worked  in  his  studio,  who  naturally  assisted 
him  in  his  heavier  commissions.  Furthermore,  it 
is  not  the  quantity  of  the  works  of  an  artist,  nor 
the  rapidity  with  which  he  turns  them  out,  that 
gives  the  measure  of  his  value,  but  their  quality, 
no  matter  how  small  their  number.  Othenvise, 
Luca,  of  course,  would  have  long  since  been  pro- 
claimed the  greatest  painter  of  the  world,  and 
criticism  would  have   relegated  to   oblivion  such 


242  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

works  as  the  Santa  Forma  of  Claude  Coello,  for 
having  been  made,  although  marvelously  perfect, 
with  patient  slowness. 


JOSE    PEON    Y    CONTRERAS. 


243 


JOSE  PEON  Y  CONTRERAS. 


José  Peon  y  Contreras  was  born  at  Merida, 
Yucatan,  January  12,  1843,  being  son  of  Juan 
Bautista  Peon  and  Maria  del  Pilar  Contreras. 
Studying  medicine  in  his  native  city,  he  received 
the  degree  of  M.D.,  at  the  age  of  nineteen  years. 
In  1863,  he  went  to  the  City  of  Mexico  and  say- 
ing nothing  of  his  earlier  course,  again  went 
through  the  medical  curriculum.  By  competition, 
he  obtained  an  appointment  In  the  Hospital  de 
Jesus;  in  1867,  he  was  Director  of  the  San  Hipó- 


244  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

lito  Hospital  for  the  Insane;  for  several  years  he 
was  in  charge  of  public  vaccination  for  the  city. 

Giving  his  leisure  to  letters,  José  Peon  y  Con- 
treras  soon  gainea  high  rank  as  a  lyric  poet  and  a 
dramatist.  He  had  already  entered  the  field  of 
letters  before  leaving  Merida.  His  first  effort 
was  La  Cruz  del  Paredón,  a  fantastic  legend, 
printed  when  its  author  was  eighteen  years  of  age. 
A  volume  of  Poesías  (Poems)  appeared  in  1868. 
In  Mexico,  in  1871  he  printed,  in  the  paper,  El 
Domingo  (Sunday)  a  collection  oí  Romances  his- 
tóricos Mexicanos  (Mexican  Historical  Roman- 
ces), in  which  he  dealt  with  Aztec  themes  and 
actors.  These  have  merit,  but  are  little  known. 
The  field  of  José  Peon  y  Contreras's  greatest  tri- 
umphs is  the,  in  Mexico,  much  neglected  drama. 
In  1876  he  published  his  Hasta  el  cielo  (Unto 
Heaven),  a  drama  in  prose,  which  was  a  great 
success.  It  was  rapidly  followed  by  others,  most- 
ly in  verse.  On  May  7,  1876,  La  hija  del  Rey 
(The  Daughter  of  the  King)  being  presented,  the 
writers  of  Mexico  presented  the  author  of  the 
piece  a  gold  pen  and  a  Diploma  of  Honor  signed 
by  all.  Agüeros  says  of  José  Peon  y  Contreras 
that  he  Is  to  be  compared  with  José  Echegan\ 
He  is  of  "  marvellous  dramatic  talent;  profound 
knowledge  of  the  human  heart;  his  descriptions 
are  paintings;  his  dialogue  is  natural,  sound,  and 
moral.     His  faults  are  claimed  to  be  similarity  of 


JOSE    PEON    Y    CONTRERAS.  245 

argument  and  absence  of  certain  dramatic  re- 
sources, showing  lack  of  originality." 

In  1880,  he  published  Romances  dramáticos 
(Dramatic  Romances),  in  which  he  presents  four- 
teen brief,  rapid  sketches,  each  of  them  capable  of 
expansion  into  a  drama.  In  1881  he  published 
Trovas  Columbinas  (Columbian  Metres),  lyrical 
poems  dealing  with  Columbus  and  his  discovery. 
In  1883,  a  volume  of  poems.  Ecos  (Echoes)  was 
published  in  New  York.  Two  novels  by  our 
author  Taide  and  Veleidosa,  have  been  well  re- 
ceived, the  latter  being,  perhaps,  the  favorite. 

José  Peon  y  Contreras  at  one  time  represented 
Yucatan  in  the  lower  house  of  Congress;  later,  in 
1875,  he  was  Senator  for  the  same  State.  He  has 
recently  been  a  Deputy  for  the  State  of  Nuevo 
Leon. 

HASTA   EL  CIELO  I 

The  scene  is  laid  in  the  City  of  Mexico;  the 
time  is  the  seventeenth  century.  The  play  is  in 
three  acts  and  is  written  in  prose.  The  selections 
are  from  Act  III.  The  action  takes  place  at  San- 
cho's  house.  Sancho  is  the  private  secretary  of 
the  Viceroy;  he  is  passing  under  an  assumed  name 
and  is  seeking  vengeance  against  the  Viceroy,  who 
does  not  know  his  Identity,  for  his  father's  death 
and  his  mother's  dishonor.  Blanca,  supposed  to 
be  the  Viceroy's  ward,  is  In  reality  his  daughter; 
this  Sancho  knows  and  gains  her  love,  with  the 


246  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

intention  of  making  her  dishonor  the  Viceroy's 
disgrace.  To  escape  a  hated  suitor,  Blanca,  trust- 
ing to  Sancho's  pretended  love,  has  left  her  father's 
house  and  taken  refuge  with  Sancho.  The  Vice- 
roy, distracted  seeks  her.  Ultimately,  the  true 
love,  which  Sancho  would  give  her,  proves  im- 
possible. 

SCENE  IV. 

Blanca :     Sancho ! 

Sancho:     Ah,  Blanca  —  what  is  the  matter? 

B. :  Nothing;  nothing;  how  happy  I  am  to  find 
you  here. 

S. :     Did  you  not  sleep  ? 

B. :  No.  I  could  not.  Slumber  fled  from 
my  eyes. 

S. :  Why?  Are  you  not  here  secure?  What 
do  you  fear?     Have  I  not  told  you ? 

B. :  In  vain  I  seek  repose.  My  agitated  spirit 
wakes;  my  afflicted  soul  recalls  the  past  and 
trembles  for  the  future.  There  are  moments, 
when  I  feel  that  I  shall  go  mad ! 

S. :  You  tremble,  are  cold  —  Blanca,  calm 
yourself. 

B. :     The  memory  of  this  misfortune  haunts  me. 

S. :     You  still  insist ! 

B. :  You  attempt  to  conceal  it  from  me,  in 
vain.  .  .  .  Last  night  I  overheard,  when 
Fortun  announced  to  you  the  death  of  this  —  of 
this  marquis. 


JOSE    PEON    Y    CONTRERAS.  247 

S.:  Well!  What  of  that?  — Man's  days 
are  numbered.     His  hour  of  punishment  arrives. 

B. :  Moreover,  I  can  not  conceal  it  from  you, 
Sancho;  the  passing  moments  seem  to  me  eterni- 
ties.—  We  cannot  continue  living  thus. —  It  is 
necessary  that  God  should  sanctify  this  union. 

S. :     Soon  —  very  soon. 

B. :  This  is  not  my  house.  Much  as  I  love 
you,  much  as  I  have  sacrificed  my  dignity  upon  the 
altar  of  this  love,  I  cannot  be  tranquil.  I  feel 
something  here,  in  my  breast,  of  which  I  had  no 
idea  before, —  and  —  you  see,  I  cannot  venture 
to  raise  my  eyes  in  your  presence. —  The  blush, 
which  inflames  my  cheek,  is  the  shame  of 
guilt 

S. :     You,  guilty ? 

B. :  Just  the  same!  —  What  am  I,  here?  — 
When  I  am  alone  no  one  beholds  me,  but  I  would 
even  hide  me  from  myself. —  If,  in  snatching  me 
from  my  home,  you  have  taken  advantage  of  my 
love,  do  not  sport  with  my  weakness, 

S. :      Blanca,  God  reads  our  hearts 

B. :  Yes,  and  because  God  reads  them,  I  im- 
plore you,  once  for  all,  to  end  this  situation. 
What  is  past  is  as  the  image  of  a  fearful  dream. — 
To  have  dreamed  it  alone  had  seemed  to  me  im- 
possible. Cruel !  this  is  very  cruel ! —  Your  very 
presence  is  enough  to  humiliate  me  —  and  I  could 
not  live  without  your  presence!  —  T  would  desire 
that  looking  at  you  my  heart  should  beat  with  joy. 


24B  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

I  wish  to  feel  that  which  I  have  always  felt  at 
seeing  you  !  that  which  I  felt  before  !  —  Why  turn 
your  face  away?  Why  does  your  stern  and  som- 
bre glance  uneasily  conceal  itself  beneath  your  lids, 
and  why  do  you  not  look  at  me  as  heretofore? 

S. :     Blanca,  you  suspect 

B, :  No,  I  do  not  suspect;  I  believe.  I  con- 
fess it  frankly.  .  ,  .  Love  is  born  and  grows 
slowly,  but  it  may  die  in  a  single  instant !  —  Mine 
is  the  guilt. 

S. :  Cease. —  Do  you  not  see  that  you  are  lacer- 
ating my  soul? 

B. :  Listen  !  At  night  you  slept  —  I  watched ! 
I  shuddered,  for  presently  I  heard  your  voice,  as 
if  distant,  broken  and  tremulous  —  you  were 
speaking  as  if  an  enormous  rock  weighed  down 
upon  your  breast 

S. :     You  are  right  —  it  was  so ! 

B. :  You  uttered  crushing  words, —  words  of 
vengeance  —  of  dishonor  —  of  love  ! 

S. :     Also  of  love  ! 

B. :  Among  those  words,  which  issued  as  if 
drawn  from  the  innermost  places  of  your  heart, 
and  which  escaped  from  your  lips  like  an  echo  — 
I  heard  my  name. —  W^hat  was  this,  Sancho? — 
Tell  me. 

S. :  A  dream !  —  an  awful  nightmare !  I 
know  not  whether  I  dreamed.  I  know  not  wheth- 
er I  was  awake.      I  saw  you,  Blanca,  humiliated, 


JOSE    PEON    Y    CONTRERAS.  249 

degraded,  vile, ,      .      .     and  in  this  fearful 

struggle  between  my  love  and  my  vengeance 

B. :     Your  vengeance  ! 

S. :  You  do  not  know  what  that  is !  Grief 
wrung  my  soul ;  I  felt  madness  in  my  brain ;  de- 
spair sprung  up  in  my  heart  as  the  tempest  in  the 
black  centre  of  the  storm-cloud  and  a  torrent  of 
blasphemies  and  prayers  broke  from  my  lips. 

B.:     Sancho!      But  you  are  still  delirious! 

S. :  No,  Blanca;  no,  my  poor  Blanca — Now, 
I  am  not  delirious;  no!  but  I  believe  indeed,  I 
shall  go  mad.  There  still  continues,  in  my  soul, 
a  frightful  combat  —  here  I  feel  the  battle,  fierce, 
desperate, —  mortal.  Go  —  recover  yourself. — 
Leave  me  alone ! 

B. :      Sancho! 

S. :      I  love  you. —  Go ! 

(Blanca  leaves,  weeping.) 

SCENE  V. 

Sancho,  who  has  watched  Blanca  disappear, 
when  she  has  gone,  says :  Unhappy  being !  Why 
does  a  cursed  blood  course  through  your  veins? 
Aye !  —  What  blame  have  I,  for  having  loved  you 
ere  I  knew  the  stock  from  which  you  came  —  the 
blood  that  gives  color  and  freshness  to  your  cheeks, 
smile  to  your  lips,  light  to  your  eyes?  Why  do  T 
love  you,  when  Í  ought  to  hate  you?  Why  ought 
I  to  hate  you,  when  I  love  you  with  all  my  heart? 


250  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

—  What   is   this?  —  Aye!     Aye!      I    cannot.     I 
cannot  more. 

(The  curtain  falls  darkly  on  the  scene.  A 
short  pause.) 

♦  ♦  4c  3|C 

SCENE  VII. 

Viceroy :     Sancho 

Sancho:     Enter  sir!     So  great  an  honor!  — 

V. :  I  have  already  told  you,  Sancho,  that  I 
love  you  as  a  son.  It  is  not  the  Viceroy  of  Mex- 
ico, who  comes  now  to  your  house.  I  enter  it  as 
a  friend.     Receive  me  as  such. 

S. :  And  —  to  what,  then,  do  I  owe  this  plea- 
sure?    Seat  yourself,  sir,  seat  yourself. 

(The  Viceroy  seats  himself.) 

V. :  I  come  to  you,  Sancho,  because  I  am  most 
unhappy. 

S. :      (With  pleasure.)      You,  most  unhappy! 

v.:     Yes.      If  you  knew 

S. :  And  what  has  happened  to  you?  Let  me 
know  —  but  allow  me  to  close  this  door  because 
a  draught  enters.  (He  bolts  the  door  that  com- 
municates with  the  interior  and  through  which 
Blanca  had  passed.)  Ah,  well!  sir!  what  makes 
you  unhappy?  It  seems  incredible;  a  man,  pow- 
erful, rich,  immensely  rich,  cradled  from  infancy 
in   the    arms   of    fortune  —  Perhaps,   your   wife! 


v.:     My  wife?  —  No!     My  wife  has  never 


JOSE    PEON    Y    CONTRERAS.  25 1 

been  able  to  make  me  unhappy,  just  as  she  has 
never  made  me  happy.  We  have  never  loved.  I 
married  her  for  family  reasons  and,  in  fine 

S. :      I  do  not  understand,  then 

V. :  Hear  me,  Sancho !  For  many  years  my 
only  good,  my  only  joy,  my  sole  delight  in  this 
world,  has  been  a  lovely  girl 

S. :  Yes,  yes, —  a  lovely  girl  who  has  grown 
up,  receiving  her  education,  in  the  Convent  of  Se- 
ville. 

v.:     You  know   it!      (Profoundly   surprised.) 

S. :  And  whom  you  brought  with  you  to  Mex- 
ico, two  years  ago. 

V. :     Yes. 

S. :  You  lodged  her  with  the  Sisters  of  the 
Conception  where  you  caused  her  to  be  loved  and 
respected  as  if  she  were  your  daughter. 

V. :     That  is  true  ! 

S. :  You  visited  her  daily,  secretly,  at  even- 
ing  

V. :     Yes,  because 

S. :  You  have  already  said  it.  Because  you 
loved  her  with  all  your  soul 


V. :     With  all  my  soul !  but 

S. :  But  they  have  robbed  you  of  her.  (Very 
brief  pause.) 

v.:  (Approaching  Sancho,  with  great  emo- 
tion.) And  you,  you  Sancho,  know  this  also! 

S. :     As  I  tell  you 

v.:  And,  who,  who  has  been — ?     Who — ? 


252  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

Do  not  tell  me  his  name,  that  matters  nothing! 
Tell  me  where  he  is, —  tell  me  that  —  because  I 
desire  his  life's  blood. 

S. :     Calm,  Señor  Viceroy,  more  calm! 

V. :  Calm  !  and  she  is  not  at  my  side  —  Calm ! 
and  the  hours  pass. —  Calm!  and  the  grief  in- 
creases and  the  suffering  grows  stronger,  and  de- 
spair kills! 

S. :     You  suffer  greatly ! 

V. :  Tell  me  who  it  is,  Sancho !  You  know 
it.  I  see  it  in  your  eyes. —  T  ell  me. —  You  know 
that  here  I  am  the  equal  of  the  King !  The  King, 
himself,  is  not  more  powerful  than  I !  Ask,  from 
me,  riches,  honor,  position, —  all,  all,  for  your  sin- 
gle word !     Speak !     You  know  !     Is  it  not  so  ? 

S. :     Yes.     It  is  true. 

V. :     Oh,  joy !     And  you  will  tell  me ! 

S. :     No. 

v.:  (Furious.)  No?  —  You  will  not  tell 
me,  you?  (He  directs  himself  toward  the  door, 
raising  his  voice)  — Halloa,  here! 

S. :  (Gently  detaining  him.)  Ah!  I  will 
close  this  door  because  a  draught  enters.  (Locks 
the  door  with  a  key.  The  Viceroy  looks  at  him 
with  frightened  surprise.) 

V. :  Sancho  !  —  Are  you  making  sport  of  me? 
Are  you  trifling  with  my  agony?  —  But,  no,  no, 
you  would  not  be  capable  of  that,  impossible. — 
You  are  not  an  ingrate. 

S. :     Seat  yourself.  Señor  Viceroy,  and  hear  me. 


J0S1-:    PEON    Y    CONTRERAS.  253 

v.;  Seat  myself?  —  Good,  I  obey  you  — 
Now,  you  see  —  I  seat  myself. —  But  you  must 
tell  It  me. 

S. :  Listen.  Only  last  night,  Señor  Viceroy, 
I  told  you  that  Juan  de  Paredes, —  the  person  who 
has  been  recommended  to  you 

v.:  My  God!  but  —  and,  what  has  this  to 
do? 

S. :     If  you  are  not  calm ! 

V. :     Sancho ! 

S. :  If  you  are  not  calm,  I  will  say  nothing  and 
then  you  would  know  nothing,  even  if  you  put  me 
to  the  torture. 

V. :  Well !  well !  —  I  am  silent  —  I  listen  — 
What  anxiety ! 

S. :  Juan  de  Paredes,  unhappy  orphan,  en- 
trusted to  a  friend  —  very  intimate  —  in  fact  a 
second  self  —  the  mission  of  avenging  his  wrongs 
upon  the  person  who  dishonored  his  mother.  Doña 
Mencia,  and  assassinated  his  father  —  and  this 
firm  friend  finally  discovered  the  scoundrel  —  ah, 
he  was  a  man  of  great  power! 

v.:     And  you  know  his  name? 

S. :     If  you  interrupt 

V. :      I  am  silent. 

S. :  The  good  friend  of  Juan  de  Paredes  suc- 
ceeded in  approaching  —  then  in  speaking  with  — 
and,  later,  in  introducing  himself  into  the  house 
of  —  and,  soon  in  ingratiating  himself  in  the  heart 
of  the  criminal. —  He  spied  upon  him  as  the  wolf- 


254  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

hunter  spies  upon  his  prey, —  scrutinized  his  move- 
ments—  informed  himself  of  his  most  insignifi- 
cant actions.  He  studied  his  character,  his  most 
hidden  motives;  he  followed  him  everywhere  and 
at  all  times  and  at  last  discovered  the  place  —  the 
place  in  which  the  lair  of  the  beast  was  hidden! 
He  had  but  a  single  love  on  earth!  — And  there 
he  fixed  his  eyes,  because  fixing  his  eyes  there  he 
thrust  a  dagger  into  the  assassin's  heart. —  Not  into 
his  heart,  no, —  into  his  very  soul !  —  Because,  that 
love  was  his  daughter  — a  lovely  maiden ! 

V. :     Continue ! 

S. :     She  gave  him  evidences  of  her  love. 

V. :     Continue ! 

S. :  She  loved  him  with  all  the  blindness  and 
strength  of  a  first  love. 

v.:     And  he ? 

S. :     He  did  not  love  her! 

Blanca:  (From  within,  with  a  feeble  cry.) 
Aye! 

V. :     That  cry 

S. :     A  cry?  —  Did  you  hear  a  cry? 

V. :  I  thought  —  perhaps,  no  —  I  deceived 
myself, —  continue. 

S. :     And  one  night  —  at  night ! 

V. :     I  know  it,  now  !  —  Be  still !  his  name ! 

S. :     He  stole  her  —  to  dishonor  her 

V. :     Silence. 

S. :     To  defile  her 

V. :     To  defile  her !  —  and,  she  ? 


JOSE    PEON    Y    CONTRERAS.  255 

Blanca:  (Within.)  Open.  (Violently  shakes 
the  door.) 

S. :     Hear  her. 

V. :  There  —  she,  there  !  Wretch  — !  What 
have  you  done?  You  shall  die.  (Placing  his 
hand  on  his  swordhilt.) 

S. :  Yes,  yes!  Come  on,  infamous  assassin; 
because,  I  abhor  you  as  I  do  her. 

SCENE  VIII. 

The  same;  also  Blanca,  who  has  broken  open 
the  door. 

B. :  (Addressing  Sancho.)  You  lie!  You 
do  not  abhor  me ! 

V. :     Blanca  1 

S. :  (Pointing  at  Blanca.)  Look  at  her  — ! 
look  at  her  — !  She  was  there — !  (Indicating 
his  inner  apartments,  where  she  was. )  And  when, 
soon,  you  die  at  my  hand.  Viceroy  of  Mexico,  you 
will  have  suffered  tivo  deaths/ 

v.:      (To  Blanca.)      And  is  it  true ? 

B. :     Sancho!     Save  me  from  this  dishonor! 

S. :  (Paying  no  attention  to  her;  to  the  Vice- 
roy.)     When  finally  a  father  meets 

v.:  (Trying  to  stop  Sancho's  mouth.)  Si- 
lence, cursed  wretch,  silence ! 

S. :  Blanca;  this  is  not  your  guardian,  he  is  — 
your  father! 

v.:     Ah 1 


256  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

B. :  My  father!  (The  viceroy  and  Blanca 
stand  as  if  stupefied.) 

S. :  (Contemplating  them.)  And  how  much 
a  father's  heart  must  suffer  in  presenting  himself 
with  this  sacred  title  for  the  first  time,  to  a  daugh- 
ter's heart.  She  cannot  let  him  kiss  her  brow  — 
no,  she  cannot. 

B. :      (Supplicatingly.)      Sancho! 

S. :  He  cannot  feel  his  eyes  wet  with  tears  of 
joy  —  but  only  with  tears  of  vengeance  !  How 
much  she  must  suffer  and  how  much  he ! 

V. :     Infamy. 

S. :  Infamy,  no!  because  her  suffering  is  multi- 
plied a  hundred-fold  in  yours. 

v.:      (Drawing  his  sword.)      Blanca,  you  die! 

B. :      (Shrinking,  horrified.)      Ah! 

S. :  (Throwing  himself  upon  the  viceroy.) 
Do  not  touch  her;  look  at  her  —  she  is  innocent! 
Love  has  robbed  me  of  my  prey.  I  love  her  so 
much  that  my  love  conquered  my  vengeance.  (Joy 
appears  on  the  face  of  the  viceroy.)  But  do  not 
rejoice.  Viceroy.  You  who  rob  women  of  their 
honor,  and  assassinate  old  men,  do  not  rejoice. 
Only  God  and  you  and  I  know  that  she  is  pure. 
I  have  not  dared  to  outrage  her  by  a  single  glance; 
but,  tomorrow 

V. :     Ah ! 

S. :  Tomorrow  the  whole  court  shall  know  that 
she's  your  daughter. 

v.:     No! 


JOSE    PEON    Y    CONTRERAS.  257 

S. :  And  that  she  passed  the  night  here. 
(Pointing  to  the  inner  rooms.) 

V. :     Thou  shalt  die. 

S. :      My  squire  knows  it 

v.:  (Drawing  his  sword.)  Enough!  — 
blood!  —  what  thirst  so  frightful ! 

S. :      (Unsheathing.)      'lis  less  than  mine  ! 

B. :     Señors,  hold!      Sancho,  is  this  possible? 

S. :  Her  voice  again  —  again  the  cry  of  her 
love  here  in  my  heart!  Withdraw  your  glance 
from  me  Blanca,  since  at  its  influence  my  heart 
fails  and  the  coward  steel  trembles  in  my  hand. 

B. :     Sancho !  enough  ! 

S. :     Hear  it 1      Hear  it,  my  father!     She 

asks  it !      Have  pity  on  me,  since,  now  that 

the  hour  has  come  for  avenging  thee,  the  pardon 
struggles  to  issue  from  my  lips!  My  father, 
pardon ! 

V. :  Your  father,  you  lia\c  said  !  Who  was 
your  father?     What  is  your  name? 

S. :      My  name  is  Juan  de  Paredes. 

V. :  You  —  you  arc  the  son  of  Don  Diego  and 
Doña  Mencia  ? 

S. :  Why  do  you  remind  me  of  it?  Why  do 
summon  before  me  their  bloody  spirits?  Yes,  I 
am  —  I  am  he,  whom  you  have  robbed  of  all. 

V. :      You,  who  dishonored  her! 

S. :     Yes. 

v.:  It  seems  as  if  Satan  possesses  you  ant!  hell 
inspires  your  words! 


258  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

B. :     What  does  he  say? 

S. :     What  do  you  say  ? 

V. :  Unhappy  being,  know  that  those  secret 
amours  with  Doña  Mencia  bore  fruit  and  that 
fruit  is 

S. :     She  !  oh  cursed  love  !  She  is  my  sister 1 

Oh,  almighty  God! 


JOSE    MARIA    ROA    BARCENA. 


259 


JOSE  MARIA  ROA  BARCENA. 


José  María  Roa  Barcena  was  born  at  Jalapa, 
State  of  Vera  Cruz,  on  September  3,  1827.  His 
father,  José  María  Rodriguez  Roa,  was  long  and 
helpfully  engaged  in  local  politics.  The  son  en- 
tered upon  a  business  life,  and  literary  work  was, 
for  him,  at  first,  but  a  relaxation.  His  youthful 
writings,  both  in  prose  and  poetry,  attracted  much 
attention.  In  1853  he  removed  to  the  City  of 
Mexico,  at  that  time  a  center  of  great  political  and 
literary  activity,  where  he  devoted  himself  to  a 


26o  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

politico-literary  career.  As  a  contributor  or  editor 
he  was  associated  with  important  periodicals, — 
El  Universal,  La  Cruz,  El  Eco  Nacional  and  La 
Sociedad.  He  favored  the  French  Intervention 
and  the  Imperial  establishment.  Soon  disapproving 
of  Maximilian's  policy,  he  came  out  strongly 
against  that  ruler  and  refused  appointments  at  his 
hands.  When  the  Empire  fell,  he  returned  to 
business  life,  but  was  arrested  and  detained  for  sev- 
eral months  in  prison. 

Señor  Roa  Barcena  has  ever  been  as«^ociated 
with  the  conservative  party,  but  has  always  com- 
manded the  respect  of  political  foes  by  his  firm  con- 
victions and  regard  for  the  calls  of  duty.  He  is 
eminently  patriotic  and  in  his  writings  deals  with 
Mexican  life  and  customs,  national  history,  and  the 
lives  and  works  of  distinguished  Mexicans.  His 
writings  are  varied.  His  poetry  has  been  largely 
the  product  of  his  early  years  and  of  his  old  age; 
his  prose  has  been  written  in  his  middle  life. 

Of  his  early  poems  Ithamar  and  Diana  were 
general  favorites.  In  1875  his  Nuevas  Poesias 
(New  Poems)  appeared,  in  1888  and  1895,  two 
volumes  of  "  last  lyric  poems  "  —  Ultimas  Poesias 
Úricas.  In  i860  he  published  an  elementary 
work  upon  Universal  Geography;  in  1863  an  En- 
sayo de  una  Historia  anecdótica  de  Mexico  (At- 
tempt at  an  Anecdotal  History  of  Mexico) .  This 
Ensayo  was  in  prose  and  was  divided  into  three 
parts,  covering  ancient  Mexican  history  to  the  time 


JOSÉ    MARIA    ROA    BARCENA.  26 1 

of  the  Conquest.  In  1862,  in  Leyendas  Mexi- 
canos (Mexican  Legends)  lie  presented  much  the 
same  matter  in  verse.  These  three  charmingly 
written  books,  while  conscientious  literary  produc- 
tions, were  intended  for  youth.  Of  stronger  and 
more  vigorous  prose  are  his  political  novel,  La 
Quinta  modelo  (The  Model  Farm)  and  his 
famous  biographies  of  Manuel  Eduardo  Gorostiza 
and  José  Joaquin  Pesado.  Of  the  latter,  often 
considered  his  masterpiece,  one  writer  asserts,  it 
shows  "  rich  style,  vast  erudition,  admirable 
method,  severe  impartiality  in  judgment,  profound 
knowledge  of  the  epoch  and  of  the  man." 
Famous  is  the  Recuerdos  de  la  invasion  Norte- 
Americana  1846-18^'/  (Recollections  of  the 
American  Invasion:  1 846-1 847),  which  appeared 
first  in  the  columns  of  the  periodical  El  Sigilo  XIX, 
and  was  reprinted  in  book  form  only  in  1883. 
But  it  is  in  his  short  stones  that  Roa  Barcena 
appears  most  characteristically.  His  Novelas, 
originales  y  traducidas  (Novels,  original  and  trans- 
lated) appeared  in  1870.  They  are  notable  for 
delicacy  of  expression,  minute  detail  in  description 
and  action,  some  mysticism,  and  a  keen  but  subtle 
humor.  In  his  translations  from  Dickens,  Hoff- 
man, Byron,  Schiller,  our  author  is  wonderfully 
exact  and  faithful  both  to  sense  and  form. 


202  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

COMBATS  IN  THE  AIR. 

Some  of  Roa  Bárcena's  characteristics  are  well 
illustrated  in  the  little  sketch,  Combates  en  el  aire 
(Combats  in  the  air).  An  old  man  recalls  the 
fancies  and  experiences  of  his  boyhood.  To  him, 
as  a  child,  kites  had  character  and  he  associated 
individual  kites  with  persons  whom  he  knew;  they 
had  emotions  and  passions;  they  spoke  and  filled 
him  with  joy  or  terror.  One  great  kite,  a  bully  in 
disposition,  was,  for  him,  a  surly  neighbor,  whom 
all  feared.  This  dreadful  kite  had  ruined  many 
of  the  cherished  kite  possessions  of  his  young  com- 
panions. Once  his  teacher,  the  boy  himself,  and 
some  friends,  fabricated  a  beautiful  kite.  In  its 
first  flight  it  is  attacked  by  the  bully  and  the  battle 
is  described. 


The  preliminaries  of  the  sport  began  with  the 
manufacture  of  the  kite.  The  kinds  most  used 
were  pandorgas,  parallelograms  of  paper  or  cloth, 
according  to  size  and  importance,  with  the  skele- 
ton composed  of  strong  and  flexible  cane,  called 
otate,  with  hummers  of  gut  or  parchment  or  rag, 
at  the  slightly  curved  top  or  bottom  —  or  they 
bore  the  name  of  cubos  (squares) ,  made  with  three 
small  crossed  sticks  covered  with  paper  and  with 
a  broad  fringe  of  paper  or  cloth  at  the  sides.  Both 
kinds  usually  displayed  the  national  colors  or  bore 


JOSÉ    MARIA    ROA    BARCENA.  263 

figures  of  Moors  and  Christians,  birds  and  quad- 
rupeds. The  tails  were  enormously  long  and  were 
forms  of  tufts  of  cloth,  varying  in  size,  tied  cross- 
wise of  the  cord,  which  ended  in  a  bunch  of  rags; 
in  the  middle  of  the  cord  were  the  '  cutters,'  terri- 
bly effective  in  battles  between  kites ;  they  were  two 
cockspur-knives  of  steel,  finely  sharpened,  project- 
ing from  the  sides  of  a  central  support  of  wood, 
with  which  the  bearer  cut  the  string  of  his  oppo- 
nent, which,  thus  abandoned  to  its  fate  on  the  wings 
of  the  wind,  went  whirling  and  tumbling  through 
the  air,  to  fall  at  last  to  the  ground,  at  a  consider- 
able distance.  Night  did  not  end  the  sport;  they 
had  messengers  or  paper  lanterns,  hanging  from  a 
great  wheel  of  cardboard,  through  the  central  open- 
ing in  which  the  kite-string  passed,  and  which,  im- 
pelled by  the  wind,  went  as  far  as  the  check-string 
and    whirled    there,    aloft,    with    its    candles    yet 

lighted. 

*  *  *  * 

A  neighbor  of  gruff  voice,  harsh  aspect,  and 
the  reputation  of  a  surly  fellow,  was,  for  me, 
represented  by  a  great  pandorga,  with  powerfully 
bellowing  hummer,  which  on  every  windy  day 
sunk  —  if  we  may  use  the  term  —  some  eight  or 
ten  unfortunate  cubos,  thus  being  the  terror  of  all 
the  small  boys  of  our  neighborhood.  It  was  made 
of  white  cloth,  turned  almost  black  by  the  action 
of  sun  and  rain;  its  long  tail  twisted  and  writhed 
like  a  great  serpent,  and  even  doubled  upon  itself 


264  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

midway,  at  times,  on  account  of  the  weight  of  its 
large  and  gleaming  cutters.  Its  hoarse  and  con- 
tinuous humming  could  be  heard  from  one  end  of 
the  town  to  the  other  and  sounded  to  me  like  the 
language  of  a  bully. 


Just  then  was  heard  a  bellowing,  as  of  a  bull, 
and,  black  and  threatening,  the  well  known  pan- 
dorga bully  appeared  in  the  air,  more  arrogant  than 
ever,  glowering  -with  malicious  eyes  upon  its  unex- 
pected rival  and  preparing  to  disembowel  it,  at 
the  least.  For  a  moment  the  members  of  our  little 
company  shuddered,  because,  in  the  anxiety  and 
haste  to  raise  the  cuho,  we  had  forgotten  to  attach 
the  cutters.  To  lower  it  then,  in  order  to  arm  it, 
would  have  looked  like  lowering  a  flag,  which  was 
not  to  Martinez's  taste.  Trusting,  then,  to  his  own 
dexterity,  he  prepared  for  the  defence,  intending 
to  entangle  the  cord  of  our  cuho  in  the  upper  part 
of  the  tail  of  the  enemy,  which  would  cause  the 
kite  and  Its  tail  to  form  an  acute  angle  riding  upon 
our  attaching  cord,  and  would  hurl  it  headlong  to 
the  earth.  .  .  .  The  bully  rose  to  the  north, 
in  order  to  fall  almost  perpendicularly,  on  being 
given  more  string,  upon  the  cord  of  the  cuho,  and 
then,  on  ascending  again  with  all  possible  force,  to 
cut  it.  Once,  twice,  three  times  it  made  the  at- 
tempt, but  was  foiled  by  our  giving  the  cuho  extra 
cord,  also,  at  the  decisive  moment.   Raging  and  bel- 


JOSE    MARÍA    ROA    BARCENA.  265 

lowing,  the  enemy  drew  much  nearer,  and  taking 
advantage  of  a  favorable  gust,  risked  everything  in 
a  desperate  effort  to  cut  us.  As  its  sharp  set  tail, 
keen  as  a  Damascus  blade,  grazed  our  cord,  the 
watchful  Martinez  gave  this  a  sudden,  sharp  jerk 
against  the  tail  itself,  causing  both  it  and  the  kite 
to  double  and  plunge.  In  its  headlong  dash,  it  cut 
loose  the  cubo,  which,  alone,  and  whirling  like  a 
serpent  through  the  air,  went  to  fall  a  quarter  of  a 
league  away.  But  the  aggressor  too  fell,  and 
fell  most  ignominiously.  Thrown  and  whirled  by 
the  treacherous  cord  of  its  victim,  it  could  not  re- 
gain its  normal  attitude,  and  like  the  stick  of  an 
exhausted  rocket,  fell  almost  vertically  to  the  earth, 
landing  in  the  center  of  our  court,  where  it  was 
declared  a  just  prisoner. 


NEAR  THE  ABYSS. 

In  Noche  al  raso,  the  coach  from  Orizaba  to 
Puebla  breaks  down  a  little  before  reaching  its 
destination.  The  passengers  beguile  the  night 
hours  with  stories.  The  story  told  by  "  the  Cap- 
tain "  is  entitled  A  dos  dedos  del  Abismo  (At  two 
fingers  from  the  abyss).  An  exquisite.  Marquis 
del  Veneno,  is  the  hero.  Of  good  birth  and  well 
connected,  with  no  special  wealth  or  prospects,  fre- 
quenting good  society,  he  has  never  yielded  to 
feminine  charms.  A  young  lady,  Toreto,  daugh- 
ter of  an  aged  professor  of  chemistry,  is  beautiful 


266  MODERN   MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

and  socially  attractive,  but  a  blue-stocking,  fond  of 
mouthing  Latin,  of  poetry  and  of  science.  The 
Marquis  has  no  idea  of  paying  attentions  to  Lo- 
reto,  in  fact  he  despises  her  pedantry.  But  gossip 
connects  their  names  and  a  series  of  curious  inci- 
dents give  color  to  the  report  that  they  are  be- 
trothed. The  aged  chemist  clinches  the  matter, 
despite  desperate  efforts  on  the  part  of  the  Marquis 
to  explain,  and  the  engagement  is  announced.  In 
his  dilemma  the  Marquis  seeks  advice  and  aid  from 
his  padrino,  General  Guadalupe  Victoria,  and  from 
his  friend,  the  famous  Madame  Rodriguez.  All, 
however,  seems  in  vain.  Just  as  he  decides  to  ac- 
cept the  inevitable,  an  escape  presents  itself.  The 
passages  selected  are  those  which  describe  the  inter- 
view between  the  old  chemist  and  the  Marquis  and 
the  opening  of  a  way  of  escape. 


Somewhat  disquieted  as  to  the  purport  of  such 
an  appointment,  del  Veneno,  after  many  turns, 
back  and  forth,  in  his  chamber,  was  inclined  to 
believ^e  that  reports  of  his  supposed  relations  hav- 
ing come  to  the  ears  of  Don  Raimundo,  the  old 
man  proposed  to  hear  from  his  own  lips  the  facts. 
Basing  himself  on  this  supposition,  the  Marquis, 
whose  conscience  was  entirely  clear,  decided  to  be 
frank  and  loyal  with  the  old  gentleman,  explaining 
fully  his  own  conduct  in  the  matter,  and  endeavor- 
ing to  dissipate  any  natural  vexation  which   the 


JOSE    MARÍA    ROA    BARCENA.  267 

popular  gossip  had  caused  him ; —  gossip,  for 
which  the  Marquis  beheved  he  had  given  no  cause. 
Having  decided  upon  this  procedure,  he  succeeded 
in  falling  asleep  and  the  following  day,  with  the 
most  tranquil  air  in  the  world,  he  directed  himself, 
at  the  hour  set,  to  the  place  of  appointment,  feeling 
himself,  like  the  Chevalier  Bayard,  without  fear 
and  without  reproach. 

He  installed  himself  at  one  of  the 
least  conspicuous  tables  of  the  café  and  soon  saw 
Don  Raimundo,  who  saluted  him,  and  seating  him- 
self at  his  side,  spoke  to  him  in  these  terms: 

"  Dissimulation  is  useless,  my  friend,  in  matters 
so  grave  and  transcendental  as  that  which  you  and 
my  daughter  have  in  hand;  I  do  not  mean  that  I 
disapprove  the  prudence  and  reserve  with  which 
you  have  both  acted.  It  is  true  that  you,  as  Lo- 
reto,  have  carried  dissimulation  and  secrecy  to  such 
an  extreme,  that " 

"  Permit  me  to  interrupt  you,  Don  Raimundo, 
to  say  that  I  do  not  understand  to  what  matter  you 
refer " 

"  My  friend,  you  young  people  believe  that,  in 
placing  your  fingers  over  your  eyes  you  blot  out 
the  sun  for  the  rest  of  us.  But,  we  old  folks,  we 
see  it  all!  We  decompose  and  analyze;  further  — 
what  will  not  a  father's  insight  and  penetration 
discover?  From  the  beginning  of  your  love 
for  Loreto " 

"  But,  sir,  if  there  has  not  been " 


268  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

"  Nothing  indecorous,  no  scandal  will  come 
from  the  relations  between  you  —  that  I  know 
right  well;  it  could  not  be  othewise  in  a  matter  in- 
volving a  finished  gentleman,  to  whom  propriety 
and  nobility  of  character  have  descended  from  both 
lines,  and  a  young  lady  who,  though  it  ill  becomes 
me  to  say  it,  has  been  perfectly  educated,  has  read 
much,  and  knows  how  to  conduct  herself  in  society. 
I  tell  you,  friend  Leodegario,  that  for  months  past 
no  one  has  needed  to  whisper  in  my  ear,  '  These 
young  people  love  each,  other,'  because  the  thing 
was  evident  and  had  not  escaped  me.  Accus- 
tomed, from  my  youth,  to  decomposition  and 
analysis,  I  have  questioned  my  wife,  '  Do  they  love 
each  other?'  and  she  has  answered,  'I  believe 
they  do.'  I  then  inquired,  '  Have  you  spoken  with 
Loreto  about  it?  '  and  she  replied,  '  Not  a  word.' 
Days  pass  and  your  mutual  passion " 

"  It  is  my  duty,  Don  Raimundo,  to  inform 
you " 

"  It  is  your  duty  to  hear  me  without  interrupt- 
ing me.  Days  pass  and  your  mutual  passion, 
arrived  at  its  height,  enters  the  crucible  of  test. 
You  withdraw  from  Loreto  and  she  pretends  not 
to  notice  it.  Thoughtless  people  say,  '  They  have 
broken  with  each  other  ' ;  but  I  say,  '  Like  sheep 
they  separate  for  a  little,  to  meet  again  with  the 
greater  joy.'  Others  say,  '  The  Marquis  is  fickle 
and  changeable  ' ;  but  I  say,  '  He  gives  evidence 
of  greater  chivalry  and  nobihty  than  I  believed 


JOSÉ    MARÍA    ROA    BARCENA.  269 

him  to  possess.'  Friend  Leodegario,  what  do  not 
the  eyes  of  a  father  discover?  What,  in  the  moral 
as  in  the  physical  world,  can  resist  decomposition 
and  analysis?  With  a  little  isolation  and  examina- 
tion of  the  elements  composing  such  an  affair,  the 
truth  is  precipitated  and  shows  itself  at  the  bottom 
of  the  flask!  I  know  it  all;  I  see  it,  just  as  if  it 
were  a  chemical  reaction  !  You  —  delicate  and 
honorable  to  quixotism,  knowing  that  the  grocer 
Ledesma  is  attentive  to  Loreto,  and  considering 
yourself  relatively  poor,  have  said  to  yourself,  '  I 
will  not  stand  in  the  way  of  the  worldly  betterment 
of  this  young  lady,'  and  have  abruptly  left  the 
Held.  Loreto,  in  her  turn,  offended  that  you 
should  believe  her  capable  of  sacrificing  you  upon 
the  altar  of  her  self-interest,  has  determined  to 
arouse  your  jealousy  by  pretending  to  accept  the 
attentions  which  Ledesma  offers  in  the  form  of 
raisins,  almonds,  codfish  and  cases  of  wine.  I 
repeat  that  this  is  all  very  plain;  but  it  is  a  sort 
of  trifling  that  can  not  be  prolonged  without  peril, 
and  which  I  have  ended  so  far  as  my  daughter  is 
concerned.  Your  future  and  hers  might  both  suf- 
fer from  the  rash  actions  of  irritated  love;  no,  my 
dear  sir:  let  Ledesma  keep  his  wealth,  or  lavish  it 
upon  some  Galician  countrywoman;  and  let  re- 
spectable financial  mediocrity,  accompanied  by  the 
noble  character  and  the  delicacy  and  chivalry  which 
distinguish  you,  triumphantly  bear  away  the  prize. 
A  bas  Galicia !  viva  Mexico !  " 


270  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

"  The  complete  mistake  under  which  you  la- 
bor  " 

"  My  friend,  one  who,  like  myself,  decomposes 
and  analyzes  everything,  rarely  or  never  makes 
mistakes!  Last  night,  I  brought  my  wife  and 
daughter  together  and,  to  assure  myself  of  the  state 
of  mind  of  the  latter,  made  use  of  this  stratagem: 
*  Loreto,'  I  said,  '  Don  Leodegario  has  asked 
me  for  your  hand;  what  shall  I  answer  him?' 
Immediately  both  mother  and  daughter  flushed  as 
red  as  poppies  and  embraced  each  other.  Loreto 
then  replied,  '  I  am  disposed  to  whatever  you  may 
determine.'  '  But  do  you  love  him  ?  '  I  asked. 
'  Yes,  I  love  him,'  she  answered  with  downcast 
eyes.  With  this,  my  friend,  the  mask  fell  and 
these  things  only  remained  to  be  done,  what  I  have 
done  this  morning  and  what  I  am  doing  now;  to 
wit:  to  intimate  to  Señor  Ledesma  that  he  desist 
from  his  aspirations  regarding  a  young  lady  who 
is  to  marry  another  within  a  few  days,  and  to 
tell  you  that  Loreto's  parents,  duly  appreciative  of 
the  noble  conduct  of  the  aspirant  for  their  daugh- 
ter's hand,  yield  her  to  him,  sparing  all  explana- 
tions and  steps  unpleasant  to  one's  self-respect,  and 
desiring  for  you  both,  in  your  marriage  relation,  a 
life  longer  than  Methuselah's  and  an  offspring 
more  numerous  than  Jacob's." 

*'  But,  sir,  Don  Raimundo " 

"  Neither  buts  nor  barrels  avail.*     You  were 

*  There  is   here  a   play  on   words  not  easy  to   render  well.     Pero-hut: 
pera-pear;  aguacate  is  a  sort  of  fruit.     The  text  runs: 


JOSE    MARIA    ROA    BARCENA.  27 1 

marvelously  self-controlled,  In  believing  yourself 
unworthy  of  Loreto,  and  in  refusing  the  happiness 
for  which  your  heart  longed;  but  I  am  also  master* 
of  my  daughter's  lot  and  I  desire  to  unite  her  to 
you  and  render  you  happy  perforce.  Come,  friend 
Leodegario,  there  is  no  escape.  Dr.  Román  has 
promised  to  marry  you  in  the  church;  I  have  or- 
dered my  wife  to  announce  the  approaching  mar- 
riage to  her  lady  friends  and  I  am  making  the 
announcement  to  the  gentlemen.  Everyone  cor- 
dially congratulates  me  upon  my  selection  of  a  son- 
in-law." 

^  3fC  ^  3fC 

With  this  object,  he  took  up  his  hat  and  gloves. 
Just  then  he  heard  a  noise  and  voices  in  altercation 
in  the  corridor;  the  door  opened  violently  and  Don 
Raimundo  entered  the  room  in  his  shirt  sleev^es 
and  a  cap,  his  face  pallid,  and  a  breakfast  roll  in 
his  hand.  He  entered,  and  saying  nothing  to 
the  Marquis  beyond  the  words,  "  They  pursue  me," 
ran  to  hide  himself  under  the  bed,  frightened  and 
trembling. 

Seeing  this,  the  young  man  seized  a  sword 
from  the  corner  of  the  room  and  set  forth  to  meet 
the  pursuers  of  Don  Raimundo. 

"Pero  —  señor   Don    Raimundo" 
"  No    hay   peros,   ni   aguacates   que   valgan." 
The  exact  translation  is: 

"  But  — •  señor    Don    Raimundo  — " 
There  are  no  pears,  nor  aguacates,  which  avail. 

*  Here  again  is  a  douhle-entendre.  The  same  word  dueno.  owner,  is 
here  translated  as  self-controlled,  and  master.  The  young  man  is 
master  (of  himself),  the  old  man  is  master  of  his  daughter's  lot. 


272  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

He  found,  in  the  next  room,  Fabian,  Don  Rai- 
mundo's  servant,  almost  as  old  as  his  master  him- 
self. With  him  were  two  porters,  bearing  no  arms 
more  serious  than  their  carry-straps.  The  Mar- 
quis having  asked  Fabian  what  this  meant,  the 
faithful  old  servant  took  him  to  one  side  and  said, 
"  The  master  has  left  home,  against  the  doctor's 
orders,  and  we  have  come  to  fetch  him,  as  my 
lady  and  her  daughter  do  not  wish  him  wandering 
alone  on  the  streets." 

Without  yet  understanding  the  enigma,  del 
Veneno  further  questioned  Fabian  and  learned  that 
Don  Raimundo,  after  some  days  of  symptoms  of 
mental  disturbance,  had  become  absolutely  de- 
ranged and,  for  a  week  back,  had  been  locked  up 
in  the  house. 

Immediately  the  Marquis  understood  the  con- 
duct of  his  father-in-law-to-be  toward  himself  and 
a  gleam  of  hope  appeared.  But,  moved  by  sym- 
pathy and  without  thinking  of  his  own  affairs,  he 
tried  to  persuade  the  old  man  to  leave  with  Fabian, 
which,  with  great  difficulty,  he  at  last  did. 

He  then  hastened  to  the  house  of  Madame 
Rodriguez,  where  he  was  received  almost  gaily. 
"  I  was  about  to  send  for  you,"  said  that  lady,  "  be- 
cause I  have  most  important  matters  to  communi- 
cate to  you.  Perhaps  you  know  that  the  unfortu- 
nate Don  Raimundo  is  hopelessly  insane.  Ah, 
well,  Loreto  and  her  mamma,  after  cudgelling 
their  brains  vainly  to  explain  why  you  never  whis- 


JOSE    MARIA    ROA    BARCENA.  273 

pered  a  word  about  the  wedding,  of  which  Don 
Raimundo  only  spoke,  as  soon  as  they  knew  the 
old  man  was  deranged,  understood  everything  else, 
and  I  have  confirmed  them  in  their  conclusions. 
It  is  needless  to  dwell  upon  the  mortification  the 
matter  has  caused  them:  you  can  imagine  it;  but, 
fulfilling  the  commission  which  they  have  intrusted 
to  me,  I  tell  you  that  they  consider  you  free  from 
all  compromise  and  that  they  are  greatly  pleased 
at  the  prudence  and  chivalry  you  have  displayed  in 
so  unpleasant  and  disagreeable  a  matter." 

"  But  I  am  not  capable,"  impetuously  exclaimed 
the  Marquis,  "  of  leaving  such  a  family  in  a  ridicu- 
lous position.  No,  my  dear  lady,  pray  tell  Loreto 
that,  decidedly  and  against  all  wind  and  sea,  I  will 
marry  her,  and  that  in  the  quickest  possible  time." 

"  Marquis !  tempt  not  God's  patience !  Now 
that  a  door  is  opened,  escape  by  it  without  looking 
back  and  consider  yourself  lucky.  Moreover, 
although  Loreto  babbles  in  Latin  and  writes  dis- 
tiches, she  is  not  so  stupid  as  you  think,  and  knows 
well  how  to  take  care  of  herself.  She  has  under- 
stood conditions  perfectly  and  knows  her  advan- 
tage; a  single  glance  has  sufficed  to  draw  to  her 
feet  the  grocer,  more  attentive  and  enamored  than 
ever." 

"How,  madam?  Is  it  possible  that  Loreto 
would " 

"  Loreto  marries  Ledesma  within  a  week." 

Who  can  know  the  chaos  of  the  human  heart? 


274  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

The  Marquis,  who  a  moment  before  had  been 
supremely  happy  at  the  mere  idea  of  his  release, 
now  felt  vexed  and  humiliated  in  knowing  that 
Loreto  so  promptly  replaced  him.  His  pupils 
grew  yellow,  his  nervous  attack  returned  and  this, 
without  doubt,  was  all  that  prevented  his  hover- 
ing about  Loreto's  house  as  a  truly  enamored  swain 
and  challenging  Ledesma  to  the  death. 


JUSTO    SIERRA. 


275 


JUSTO    SIERRA. 


Justo  Sierra  was  born  January  26,  1 848,  at  Cam- 
peche, the  capital  city  of  the  State  of  the  same 
name.  The  son  of  a  man  known  ¡n  the  world  of 
letters,  he  early  showed  himself  interested  in 
literary  pursuits.  Determining  to  follow  the 
career  of  law,  he  was  licensed  to  practice  at  the 
age  of  twenty-three.  Chosen  a  member  of  the 
Chamber  of  Deputies,  he  promptly  gained  a  repu- 
tation   as    an    orator.     He    became    one    of    the 


276  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

justices  of  the  Supreme  Court.  At  present  he  is 
Sub-Secretary  of  Public  Instruction  and  has  been 
connected  with  all  recent  progress  in  Mexican  edu- 
cation. For  some  year  he  was  professor  of  gen- 
eral history  in  the  Escuela  Nacional  Preparatoria 
(National  Preparatory  School).  Among  his 
works  are  Cuentos  románticos  (Romantic  Tales), 
En  Tierra  Yankee  (In  Yankee  Land),  and  Mex- 
ico y  su  evolución  social  (Mexico  and  its  Social 
Evolution).  In  style  Sierra  is  poetical  and  highly 
fantastic,  with  a  strain  of  humor  rare  in  Mexicans. 
Our  selection  is  a  complete  story  from  Cuentos  ro- 
mánticos. 

THE  STORY  OF  STAREI :  A  LEGEND  OF  YELLOW 
FEVER. 

Examining  a  volume,  pretentiously  styled  Al- 
bum de  Viaje  (Album  of  Travel),  which  lay  amid 
the  sympathetic  dust,  which  time  accumulates  in  a 
box  of  long-forgotten  papers,  I  encountered  what 
my  kind  readers  are  about  to  see. 

We  were  in  the  diligencia  coming  from  Vera 
Cruz,  a  German  youth,  Wilhelm  S. —  with  flaxen 
hair  and  great,  expressionless,  blue  eyes, —  and  my- 
self. We  had  not  well  gained  the  summit  of  the 
Chiquihuite,  when  the  storm  burst  upon  us.  The 
coach  halted,  in  order  not  to  expose  itself  to  the 
dangers  of  the  descent  over  slopes  now  converted 
into   rivers.     I   neared  my   face  to  the   window. 


JUSTO   SIERRA.  277 

raising  the  heavy  leather  curtain,  which  the  wind 
was  beating  against  the  window-frame ;  it  loolced 
hke  night.  Above  us,  the  tempest,  with  its  thou- 
sand blacl<;  wings,  beat  against  space;  its  electric 
bellowings,  rumbled  from  the  hills  to  the  sea,  and 
the  lightning,  like  a  gleaming  sword  tearing  open 
the  bosom  of  the  clouds,  revealed  to  us,  within,  the 
livid  entrails  of  the  storm. 

We  were  literally  in  the  midst  of  a  cataract, 
which,  precipitating  itself  from  the  clouds,  re- 
bounded from  the  mountain  summit,  and  rushed, 
with  torrential  fury,  down  the  slopes. 

"  I  am  drenched  in  oceans  of  perspiration,"  said 
my  companion  to  me  in  French,  "  and  I  have  an 
oven  inside  of  me." 

"  Go  to  sleep,"  I  replied,  "  and  all  this  will 
pass,"  and,  joining  example  to  counsel,  I  wrapped 
myself  in  my  cloak  and  closed  my  eyes. 

Two  hours  later  the  tempest  had  passed,  drift- 
ing to  the  west,  over  the  wooded  heights.  It  was 
five  in  the  evening  and  the  declining  sun  was  near- 
ing  the  last  low-lying  patches  of  cloud.  The 
light,  penetrating  through  the  exuberant  vegeta- 
tion, colored  everything  with  a  marv-elous  variety 
of  hues,  which  melted  into  a  glow  of  gold  and 
emerald.  To  the  east  an  infinite  sheet  of  verdure 
extended  itself,  following  all  the  folds  and  irregu- 
larities of  the  mountain  mass,  flecked  here  and 
there  with  the  delicate  and  brilliant  green  of  ba- 
nana patches,  and  undulating  over  that  stairway  of 


278  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

giants,  became  blue  with  distance  and  broke  like  a 
sea  against  the  broad  strip  of  sand  of  the  Vera 
Cruz  coast.  The  road  which  we  had  followed  in 
our  ascent,  wound  like  a  serpent  among  trees,  which 
scarcely  distinguished  their  foliage  masses  amid 
the  dense  curtain  of  vines  and  creepers,  passed  over 
a  lofty  bridge,  descended  in  broad  curves  to  a 
little  settlement  of  wooden  buildings,  and  went, 
between  dense  and  tangled  patches  of  briers,  to 
confound  itself  with  the  bit  of  railroad  which  led 
from  the  foot  of  the  mountain  to  the  port.  At 
the  bottom  of  the  picture,  there,  where  the  sea 
was  imagined,  were  rising  superb  cloud  masses 
against  whose  blue-gray  ground  were  defined  the 
black  and  immovable  streaks  of  stratus,  seeming  a 
flock  of  seabirds  opening  their  enormous  wings  to 
the  wind,  which  delayed  its  blowing. 

The  German  slept  as  one  much  fatigued  and 
from  his  panting  bosom  issued  heavy  sobs;  he 
seemed  afflicted  with  Intense  suffering;  a  suspicion 
crossed  my  mind;  if  he  should ! 

The  branches  of  a  neighboring  tree  projected, 
through  an  open  window,  into  the  diligencia,  which 
was  standing  still,  until  the  torrents  should  have 
spent  something  of  their  force.  Upon  a  yellowed 
leaf  trembled  a  raindrop,  the  last  tear  of  the  tem- 
pest. Preoccupied  by  the  dismal  fear  which  the 
condition  of  my  companion  caused  me,  I  looked 
attentively  at  that  bead  of  crystal  liquid.  This  is 
what  I  saw : 


JUSTO    SIERRA.  279 

The  drop  of  water  was  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  bor- 
dered by  the  immense  curve  of  hot  coast  and  cut 
off,  on  the  east,  by  two  low  breakwaters,  crusted 
with  flowers  and  palms, —  Florida  and  Yucatan, 
between  which,  in  flight,  extended  a  long  string 
of  seabirds,  the  Antilles,  headed  by  the  royal  heron, 
Cuba,  slave  served  by  slaves. 

In  the  midst  of  the  Gulf,  surmounted"  by  a  yel- 
low' crown,  which  gilded  the  sea  around  like  an 
enormous  sunflower  which  reflects  itself  in  a  flower 
of  water,  arose  a  barren  island  of  the  color  of 
impure  gold,  where  currents  deposited  the  sea- 
weeds like  the  wrappings  which  swathe  Egyptian 
mummies.  Above  that  rocky  mass  the  sun 
gleamed  like  copper,  the  rapid  moon  passed  veiled 
by  livid  vapors,  and  on  days  of  tempest  the  storm- 
birds  described  wide  circles  around  it,  uttering  dire- 
ful croakings.  A  voice,  infinitely  sad,  like  the 
voice  of  the  sea,  sounded  in  that  lost  island;  listen, 
it  said  to  me. 

The  very  year  in  which  the  sons  of  the  sun 
arriv'cd  at  the  islands,  there  lived  in  Cuba  a  woman 
of  thirteen  years,  named  Starei  (star).  She  was 
very  beautiful;  black  were  her  eyes  and  intoxicat- 
ingly  sweet  like  those  of  the  Aztecs;  her  skin  firm 
and  golden  as  that  of  those  who  bathe  in  the 
Meschacebé;  celestial  her  voice  as  that  of  the 
shkok,  which  sings  its  serenades  in  the  zapote 
groves  of  Mayapdn;  and  her  little  feet  were  as 
graceful  and  fine  as  those  of  Antillean  princesses. 


28o  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

who  pass  their  hves  swinging  in  hammocks,  which 
seem  to  be  woven  by  fairies.  When  Starei  ap- 
peared one  morning  on  the  strand,  seated  on  the 
red  shell  of  a  sea-turtle,  she  seemed  a  living  pearl 
and  all  adored  her  as  a  daughter  of  god,  of  Dimi- 
van-caracol.  The  priestess  of  the  tribe  prayed  all 
night  near  the  sacred  fire,  in  which  smouldered 
leaves  of  the  intoxicating  tobacco,  and  at  last  heard 
the  divine  voice,  which  resounded  within  the  heart 
of  the  great  stone  fetish,  saying:  "  Kill  her  not; 
guard  and  protect  her;  she  is  the  daughter  of  the 
Gulf  and  the  Gulf  was  her  cradle ;  God  grant  that 
she  return  there," 

Starei  completed  her  thirteen  years  and  the  old 
and  the  young,  prophets  and  warriors,  caciques 
and  slaves,  abandoned  their  villages,  temples,  and 
hearths,  to  run  after  her  on  the  seashore.  All  were 
crazy  with  love,  but,  if  one  of  them  approached 
her,  the  Gulf  thundered  hoarsely  and  the  storm- 
bird  flew  screaming  across  the  sky. 

Starei  sang  like  the  Mexican  zenzonti,  and  her 
song  soothed  like  the  Seabreeze  which  kisses  the 
palms  in  hot  evenings,  and  in  laughing  she  opened 
her  red  lips  like  the  wings  of  the  ipiri  and  her 
bosom  rose  and  let  fall  in  enticing  folds,  the  fine 
web  of  cotton  that  covered  it.  Men  on  seeing  her 
wept,  kneeling,  and  women  wept  also,  seeing  their 
palm  huts  deserted  and  their  beds  of  rushes  chilled 
and  untouched. 

One  stormy  night,  the  divine  Starei  returned  to 


JUSTO   SIERRA.  2» I 

the  village,  after  one  of  her  rambles  on  the  shore, 
in  which  she  passed  hours  watching  the  waves,  as 
if  waiting  for  something;  those  who  followed  her 
determined  to  heap  high  their  dead  and  bury  them; 
the  aged  who  had  died  from  weariness  in  the  pur- 
suit of  the  Gulfs  daughter,  the  youths  who  had 
thrown  their  hearts  at  her  feet,  the  mothers  who 
had  died  of  grief  and  the  wives  who  had  died  of 
despair. 

It  was  a  night  of  tempest;  Hurakan,  the  god  of 
the  Antilles,  reigned  with  unwitnessed  fury.  The 
priests  spoke  of  a  new  deluge  and  of  the  legendary 
gourd  in  which  were  the  ocean  and  the  sea-mon- 
sters, which,  one  day,  broke  and  inundated  the 
earth,  and,  terrified,  they  ascended  to  the  summit 
of  their  temple-pyramid  and  took  refuge  in  the 
shadow  of  their  gods  of  stone,  which  trembled  on 
their  pedestals.  The  people  of  the  island,  over- 
whelmed with  terror,  forgot  Starel.  All  the  night 
was  passed  in  prayer  and  sacrifice;  but  at  day- 
break, they  ran,  infatuated,  to  where  the  song  of 
the  maiden  called  them. 

Starei  was  on  the  shore,  seated  on  the  trunk  of 
one  of  the  thousands  of  palm  tfees,  which  the  wind 
had  uprooted  and  thrown  upon  the  sand;  upon  her 
knees  rested  the  head  of  a  white  man,  who  ap- 
peared to  be  a  corpse.  The  beauty  of  that  face 
was  sweet  and  manly  at  once  and  the  just  appear- 
ing beard  indicated  the  youthfulness  of  the  man, 
whom  Starei  devoured  with  eyes  bathed  in  tears. 


282  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

"  Whoever  saves  him,"  she  exclaimed,  "  shall  be 
my  husband,  my  life  companion." 

"  He  is  dead,"  solemnly  replied  an  aged  priest. 

"  He  lives,"  cried  a  man,  opening  his  way 
through  the  crowd. 

The  astonished  Indians  fell  away  from  him; 
never  had  they  seen  so  strange  a  being  among 
them.  He  was  tall  and  strong;  his  hair,  the  color 
of  corn-silk,  rose  rigidly  above  his  broad  and 
bronzed  forehead  and  dividing  into  two  masses 
fell  thick  and  straight  upon  his  shoulders ;  his  eye- 
brows were  two  delicate  red  lines,  which  joined 
at  the  root  of  his  aquiline  nose;  his  mouth,  of  the 
purple  hue  of  Campeche  wood,  bent  upward  at  the 
tips,  in  a  sensual  and  cruel  arch.  The  oval  of  his 
face,  unbroken  by  even  a  trace  of  beard,  did  not  so 
much  attract  attention  as  his  eyes,  of  the  color  of 
two  coins  of  purest  gold,  set  in  black  circles.  He 
was  naked,  but  splendidly  tattooed  with  red  de- 
signs; from  the  gold  chain  that  encircled  his  waist 
hung  a  skirt,  deftly  woven  of  the  feathers  of  the 
huitzitl,  the  humming-bird  of  Anahuac. 

That  man,  who,  many  believed,  came  from 
Hayti,  approached  that  which  seemed  to  be  a 
corpse,  without  paying  attention  to  the  glance,  of 
profound  anger,  of  Starei.  He  laid  one  hand 
upon  the  icy  brow  of  the  white  man,  and,  on  plac- 
ing the  other  to  the  heart,  instantly  withdrew  it 
as  if  he  had  touched  a  glowing  brand;  rapidly  he 
tore  open  the  still-drenched  shirt  of  linen,  which 


JUSTO    SIERRA.  283 

covered  the  youth's  breast  and  seized  an  object  that 
hung  at  the  neck.  This  object  Starei  snatched 
from  him.  Was  it  a  Tahsman?  When  that 
singular  man  no  longer  had  beneath  his  hand  that, 
which  had,  doubtless,  been  to  him  a  hindrance,  he 
placed  it  upon  the  stilled  heart  of  the  shipwrecked 
stranger  and  said  to  the  maiden,  "  Kiss  him  on 
the  lips,"  and  had  scarcely  been  obeyed  when  the 
supposed  dead  man  recovered  and,  taking  the  piece 
of  wood  from  Starei's  hand,  knelt,  placing  it 
against  his  lips  and  bathing  it  in  tears.  It  was 
a  cross. 

"Adieu,  Starei,"  said  he  of  the  eyes  of  gold; 
*'  yonder  Is  the  hut  of  Zekom  (fever)  among  the 
palms;  there  is  our  nuptial  couch;  I  await  you  be- 
cause you  have  promised." 

The  daughter  of  theGulf  could  not  restrain  a  cry 
of  anger  at  hearing  the  words  of  the  son  of  Heat; 
she  approached  the  Christian,  clasped  his  neck 
in  her  arms  and  covered  his  mouth  and  eyes  with 
kisses.  "  No  !  no  !  leave  me,  thou  loved  of  Satan," 
cried  the  youth,  trying  to  release  himself  from  the 
beautiful  being.  Starei  took  him  by  the  hand,  led 
him  to  her  hut,  and  said  to  him,  in  expressive 
pantomime,  "  Here  we  two  will  live." 

Then  her  companion  replied  in  the  language  of 
those  of  Haytl,  which  was  perfectly  understood  in 
Cuba: 

"I  cannot  be  thy  husband;  I  will  be  thy 
brother." 


284  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

"Why  not?     Who  are  you?" 

"  I  am  from  far,  far  beyond  the  sea.  I  come 
from  Castile.  With  many  others,  I  arrived,  some 
months  ago,  at  Hayti,  and  knowing  that  this,  your 
isle,  had  not  been  visited  by  Christians,  we  de- 
sired to  visit  it,  but  were  shipwreclced  in  the  fearful 
tempest  of  last  night  and  I  was  about  to  perish, 
when  thy  hand  seized  me  amid  the  waves  and 
brought  me  to  the  shore." 

"  And  why  do  you  not  wish  to  be  my  husband  ?  " 

"  Because  I  am  a  priest  and  my  god,  who  is  the 
only  god,  orders  his  priests  not  to  marry;  he  orders 
us  to  preach  love.  I  come  to  preach  it  here,  but 
not  the  love  of  the  world,"  added  the  Spaniard, 
sighing. 

"This  cannot  be;  it  is  not  true,"  replied  the 
island  woman,  with  vigor,  "remain  here  with  me 
in  my  hut,  and  we  will  be  the  rulers  of  the  island 
and  our  children  will  be  heirs  of  all." 

"  I  will  be  thy  brother,"  replied  the  missionary. 

And  the  Indian  woman  left,  weeping.  .  In  the 
way  she  met  Zekom,  who  fixed  his  terrible  yellow 
glance  upon  her. 

"  Comest  to  my  hut,  Starei  ?  "  he  asked  her. 

"  Never,"  she  answered  firm  and  brave. 

"  We  will  be  the  rulers  of  all  the  islands  of  the 
seas  and  our  children  will  be  gods  on  earth,  because 
we  are  children  of  the  gods;  the  Gulf  begot  you  in 
a  pearlshell;  the  glowing  Tropic  begot  me  in  a  reef 
of  gold  and  coral." 


JUSTO    SIERRA.  285 

Starei  paused;  she  was  upon  the  summit  of  a 
rock,  from  which  the  whole  coast  was  visible. 

"  Look,"  continued  Zekom,  "  this  will  be  our 
kingdom."  And  before  the  fascinated  eye  of  the 
daughter  of  the  Gulf  there  was  spread  out  a  sur- 
prising panorama.  In  the  midst  of  an  emerald 
prairie,  a  cu  or  teocalU  reared  its  high  pyramid  of 
gold,  which  shed  its  light  around,  even  to  the  dis- 
tant horizon.  Over  that  gleaming  plain  were 
prostrated  innumerable  people  with  fear  depicted 
on  their  faces.  Genii,  clad  In  marvelous  gar- 
ments, discharged  upon  these  people,  innumerable 
flaming  arrows,  the  touch  of  which  caused  death. 
And  upon  the  summit  of  the  cu,  she  stood  erect, 
as  on  a  pedestal,  more  beautiful  than  the  sun  of 
springtime.  The  daughter  of  the  Gulf  remained 
long  in  silent  ecstasy. 

"  Come,  Starei,"  murmured  Zekom  in  her  car, 
"  tomorrow  I  await  thee  in  my  hut." 

Starei  departed  thinking,  dreaming.  When  the 
new  day  dawned,  she  saw  the  Spaniard,  hidden  in 
the  forest,  kneeling,  with  his  eyes  turned  heaven- 
ward. At  seeing  him,  the  Indian  maiden  felt  all 
her  love  rekindled;  she  threw  herself,  anew,  upon 
him  and  clasping  him  within  her  arms,  repeated  : 

"  Love  me;  love  me,  man  of  the  cold  land.  I 
will  adore  thy  god,  who  cannot  curse  us  because 
we  fulfil  his  law,  the  law  of  life.  Come  to  my 
nuptial  hut;  I  will  be  thy  slave;  we  will  pray  to- 


286  MODERN   MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

gether  and  I  will  be  as  humble  and  as  cowardly  as 
thou;  but  love  me  as  I  love  you." 

"  I  will  be  thy  brother,"  replied  the  missionary, 
pale  with  emotion. 

"  Cursed  art  thou !  "  said  Stare!,  and  fled. 

The  priest  made  a  movement,  as  if  to  follow 
her,  but  restrained  himself,  casting  one  sublime 
glance  of  grief  toward  heaven. 

Again,  through  all  that  night,  the  Gulf  thun- 
dered frightfully.  At  break  of  day,  Zekom  and 
Starei  issued  from  the  nuptial  hut,  but  as  the 
maiden  received  the  first  rays  of  the  sun  in  her 
languid  eyes,  they  lost  their  luminous  blackness  like 
that  of  the  night  and  turned  yellow  with  the  color 
of  gold,  like  those  of  her  lover.  He  cast  a  stone 
into  the  sea  and  instantly  there  appeared,  in  the 
west,  a  black  pirogue,  which  neared  the  shore 
impelled  by  the  hurricane,  which  filled  its  blood- 
red  sails. 

"  Come  to  be  my  queen,"  said  Zekom  to  the 
daughter  of  the  Gulf  and  they  entered  into  the 
bark,  which  instantly  gained  the  horizon. 

Then  the  missionary  appeared  upon  the  shore, 
crying : 

"  Come,  Starei,  my  sister,  I  love  thee." 

The  silhouette  of  the  pirogue,  like  a  black  wing, 
was  losing  Itself  In  the  Indistinct  line  w^here  the 
sea  joins  the  sky.  Starei  had  joined  herself  In  mar- 
riage to  the  devil. 

And  the  voice  which  resounded,  sad  and  melan- 


JUSTO    SIERRA.  287 

choly,  from  the  rock,  continued  —  this  Is  the  centre 
of  the  domain  of  Starei ;  from  here  her  eternal 
vengeance  against  the  whites  radiates.  The  mis- 
sionary died  soon  after,  of  a  strange  disease,  and 
his  cold  body  turned  horribly  yellow,  as  if  from  it 
were  reflected  the  eyes  of  gold  of  Zekom.  Since 
then  every  year  Starei  weeps  for  him,  disconsolate, 
and  her  tears  evaporated  by  the  tropic  heat  poison 
the  atmosphere  of  the  Gulf,  and  woe  for  the  sons 
of  the  cold  land. 

The  raindrop  fell  to  the  ground;  the  coach  pro- 
ceeded on  its  way,  and  I  turned  to  glance  at  my 
friend;  he  was  insensible;  a  livid,  yellow  hue  was 
invading  his  skin  and  his  eyes  seemed  to  start  from 
their  orbits.  *'  I  die.,  I  die,  oh,  my  mother,"  said 
the  poor  boy.  I  did  not  know  what  to  do.  I 
clasped  him  in  my  arms  trying  to  sooth  his  suffer- 
ings, to  give  him  courage.  We  reached  Cordoba. 
The  poor  fevered  patient  said:  "Look  at  her  — 
the  yellow  woman."  "Who?  Is  it  Starei?"  I 
asked  him.     "  Yes.     It  is  she,"  he  answered. 

It  was  necessary  for  me  to  leave  him.  On  arriv- 
ing at  Mexico  I  read  this  paragraph  in  a  Vera 
Cruz  paper:  "The  young  German,  Wilhelm  S., 
of  the  house  of  Watermayer  &  Co.,  who  left  this 
city  in  apparent  health,  has  died  of  yellow  fever 
at  Cordoba,  R.  I.  P." 


288  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 


VICTORIANO  SALADO  ALBAREZ. 


Victoriano  Salado  Albarez  was  born  at  Teocal- 
toche,  in  the  State  of  Jalisco,  September  30,  1867. 
He  studied  law  in  the  Escuela  de  Jurisprudencia  in 
the  city  of  Guadalajara,  taking  his  title  of  Aho- 
gado, on  August  30,  1890.  He  has  long  been 
engaged  in  journalistic  work,  serving  as  editor  of 
various  periodicals.  For  three  years  past  he  has 
lived  in  the  City  of  Mexico  and  has  represented  the 
State  of  Sonora  in  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  of 
the  National  Congress.     He  is  also  professor  of 


VICTORIANO    SALADO    ALBAREZ.  289 

the  Spanish  language  ¡n  the  Escuela  Nacional  Pre- 
paratoria (National  Preparatory  School).  He  is 
a  member  of  the  Mexican  Academy. 

In  literature,  Señor  Albarez  stands  for  the  care- 
ful and  discriminating  use  of  pure  Spanish,  and  for 
the  treatment  of  truly  Mexican  themes  in  a  charac- 
teristically Mexican  way.  He  is  an  uncompromis- 
ing antagonist  of  the  present  tendency,  in  Mexico, 
to  copy  and  imitate  the  "modern"  (and  quite 
properly  called  "decadent")  French  writings. 
His  De  mi  cosecha  (From  My  Harvest)  is  a  little 
volume  of  reviews  and  criticisms,  in  which  he 
assails  this  modern  school  and  pleads  for  a  sane  and 
truly  national  literature.  De  autos  (From  Judi- 
cial Records),  is  a  collection  of  tales,  original  and 
reworked.  His  largest  work  so  far  in  print  is  De 
Santa  Anna  á  la  Reforma  (From  Santa  Anna  to 
the  Reform) ,  an  anecdotal  treatment  of  that  period 
of  the  national  history.  His  latest  work.  La  Inter- 
vejicion  y  el  Imperio  (The  Intervention  and  the 
Empire)  is  now  being  published  in  Barcelona, 
Spain.  It  Is  of  similar  character  to  the  preceding, 
but  deals  with  the  time  of  Maximilian.  The  two 
first  parts  of  this.  Las  ranas  pidiendo  rey  (The 
Frogs  Begging  for  a  King)  and  Puebla,  are  in 
press  as  this  notice  Is  being  written. 

Our  selections  are  from  De  autos  and  De  mi  co- 
secha. 


290  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

DE  AUTOS. 

In  the  village  of  Huizache,  on  the  twentieth  day 
of  February,  one  thousand  nine  hundred,  having 
received  the  accompanying  summons,  we  went  to 
the  place  known  by  the  name  of  Corral  de  Pie- 
dra, situated  about  one  kilometre  distant,  and 
held  an  inquest  upon  the  body  of  a  man  about 
twenty-two  years  of  age,  tall,  dark,  with  a  light 
down  on  his  upper  lip,  with  black  hair,  eye- 
brows, and  eyes;  he  showed.  In  the  precardial 
region,  an  opening  produced  by  the  entrance 
of  a  bullet,  which  had  its  hole  of  exit  in 
the  left  scapula,  and  another  wound,  produced  by 
a  sabre.  In  the  forehead,  the  wound  measuring 
eleven  centimetres  In  length,  by  one  centimetre  in 
breadth,  the  depth  not  being  ascertainable  for  lack 
of  suitable  instruments  for  its  examination.  With 
the  body  were  found  a  red  scrape  sprinkled  with 
blood,  a  leather  pouch  containing  cigarettes, 
twenty-two  cents  In  copper,  twenty-five  cents  in 
silver,  a  copy  of  the  religious  print  known  as  the 
anima  sola,  and  a  recommendation  signed  by  Man- 
uel Tames,  of  Guadalajara,  in  which  the  good 
character  of  a  person,  whose  name  cannot  be  made 
out,  is  attested.  After  the  inquest,  it  was  ordered 
that  the  corpse  should  be  buried  In  the  village 
cemetery,  after  first  being  exposed  to  public  view, 
clad  In  the  garments  In  which  It  was  found  — 
which  are  white  drill  pantaloons,  calico  shirt,  sash, 


VICTORIANO   SALADO   ALBAREZ.  29 1 

sandals,  a  palm  hat  —  for  possible  recognition. 
Near  the  spot,  where  it  is  supposed  that  the  deed 
was  committed,  a  piece  of  a  sabre  was  found,  which 
is  believed  to  be  one  of  the  weapons  used  in  the 
attack. 

Thus  stands  the  record,  signed  by  the  Alcalde, 
and  the  other  witnesses,  as,  also,  the  citizen, 
Gregorio  López,  practising  physician,  forty  years 
of  age,  married,  citizen  of  a  neighboring  town, 
there  being  no  licensed  physician  In  this  jurisdic- 
tion. No  autopsy  was  ordered,  there  being  no  suit- 
able instruments  for  making  it. 


On  this  date  appears  a  complainant,  who  after 
being  duly  sworn,  says  that  she  is  named  Damiana 
Pérez,  married,  without  vocation,  seventy  years 
of  age,  native  and  inhabitant  of  Guadalajara;  that 
the  corpse  here  present  is  that  of  her  son,  Ignacio 
Almeida,  twenty  years  old,  carpenter,  son  of  de- 
ponent and  her  husband  Pedro  Almeida;  that  said 
mentioned  son  died  by  the  police  force  of  this 
place,  the  matter  occurring  as  follows :  That  for 
some  time  past  the  said  mentioned  son  maintained 
honorable  relations  with  Marta  Ruiz,  resident  in 
the  same  house  with  the  complainant  in  Guadala- 
jara, which  house  Is  the  alcniccria  *  called  La  Caía- 
vera,  that,  as  the  parents  of  the  Ruiz  girl  unreason- 
ably opposed  the  relation  of  the  lovers,   Ignacio 

•  Market  for  raw  stuffs  or  materials. 


292  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

arranged  to  carry  the  girl  away,  which  he  did,  com- 
ing to  this  village,  where  he  proposed  to  work  at 
his  trade ;  that  the  deponent,  being  acquainted  with 
the  whole  matter,  and  having  gained  consent  of 
the  parents  of  the  Ruiz  girl,  who  is  a  minor,  de- 
sired to  legalize  the  marriage  and,  for  that  pur- 
pose, had  come  to  Huizache,  where  she  learned 
that  Ignacio  had  been  put  in  prison  and  that  he 
had  afterward  been  killed;  that  this  is  all  that  she 
has  to  declare  and  that  Don  Juan  Cortes,  his  em- 
ployer, Don  Manuel  Tames,  and  many  others  who 
knew  him  can  testify  to  the  good  character  and 
conduct  of  her  son. 


This  same  day,  appears  a  witness,  who  stated, 
after  the  customary  oath,  that  he  was  named  An- 
tonio Vera,  married,  fifty-five  years  of  age,  native 
of  Ixtlan,  and  now  chief  of  police  of  this  place; 
that  the  body  present  Is  that  of  a  person,  who 
yesterday  morning  w^as  sent  to  him  by  the  munici- 
pal President,  to  be  conducted  to  the  capital  of 
the  district,  accused.  If  he  does  not  remember 
wrongly,  of  vagrancy,  disorderly  conduct,  and  ab- 
duction of  a  girl,  who  accompanied  him;  that,  as 
Is  known,  these  accusations  w'cre  made  to  the  Señor 
President  by  Señor  Don  Pedro  Gómez  Gálvez, 
owner  of  the  Hacienda  de  San  Buenaventura,  who 
also  made  complaint  against  the  now  defunct,  that 
he  had  lost  from  one  of  his  pastures  two  horses, 


VICTORIANO   SALADO   ALBAREZ.  293 

which  were  there  enclosed,  one  of  them  being 
known  by  the  name  of  El  Resorte,  and  the  other 
being  called  El  Jaltomate,  as  well  as  twenty  pesos 
in  money,  and  other  objects  which  had  disappeared 
from  the  general  store  on  his  place;  that,  this 
morning  at  dawn,  he  commanded  his  subordinates 
that  they  should  saddle  and  mount  their  horses, 
which  they  did,  and  lead  the  prisoner,  who  walked 
bound  with  cords,  between  them  riding  in  two  files ; 
that  on  reaching  the  place  known  as  Corral  de  pied- 
ra, the  now  defunct,  who  had  succeeded  in  loosen- 
ing his  cords,  on  account  of  the  darkness,  tried  to 
escape,  crying  "  Viva  la  libertad  de  los  hombres; 
chase  me,  if  you  wish,"  for  which  reason,  those 
who  accompanied  the  deponent,  discharged  their 
arms  against  him  who  was  escaping,  ceasing  their 
attack  when  they  saw  that  the  prisoner  fell  dead; 
that  Almeida,  in  attempting  to  escape  fired  two 
shots,  of  which  one  pierced  the  hat  worn  by  one 
of  the  police  and  the  other  imbedded  itself  in  de- 
ponent's saddle;  that  he  did  not  know  how  the 
prisoner  could  have  secured  the  revolver,  nor 
where  he  threw  it  when  he  ran;  that  he  was  equally 
ignorant  as  to  how  the  body  received  the  gash 
which  it  showed,  as  none  of  his  subordinates  used 
his  sabre  against  the  accused. 

The  declaration  having  been  read,  he  approved 
it,  not  knowing  how  to  sign  his  name. 
*  *  *  * 

(Similar  declarations  of  the  four  auxiliaries.) 


294  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

Thereupon  the  coroner  was  shown  a  gray  hat, 
with  brim  and  crown  pierced  by  a  shot,  apparently 
of  a  fire-arm,  and  a  cowboy's  saddle  with  signs  of 
a  bullet  shot  In  the  horn. 


On  the  twenty-fourth  of  February  appeared  a 
witness,  who,  being  duly  sworn,  stated  that  she 
was  named  Marta  Ruiz,  unmarried,  sixteen  years 
of  age,  without  vocation,  native  and  inhabitant  of 
Guadalajara;  that  she  knew  Ignacio  Almeldo,  with 
whom  she  had  lived  in  illicit  relations  for  six 
months,  having  before  been  in  honorable  relations 
with  the  purpose  of  contracting  marriage;  not  suc- 
ceeding in  their  desires,  on  account  of  the  oppo- 
sition of  deponent's  parents,  they  agreed  to  run 
away  together,  intending  to  marry  later;  that, 
arriving  at  this  place,  and  being  without  work, 
Almeida  sought  and  secured  It  at  the  Hacienda  de 
San  Buenaventura,  situated  a  half  league's  distance 
from  here;  that,  at  first  they  lived  there  content; 
but  that,  soon,  the  Señor  Don  Pedro  Gómez  Gál- 
vez,  owner  of  that  place,  began  to  pay  attention 
to  her,  urging  her  to  abandon  Almeida,  and  that 
she  resisted;  that  Don  Pedro  was  angered  and 
threatened  her  to  incriminate  her  lover,  which  he 
afterward  did,  since,  about  two  weeks  later  Al- 
meida was  taken  prisoner,  without  deponent's  hav- 
ing succeeded  In  seeing  him  meantime;  that  it  is 
false  that  Ignacio  had  a  pistol,  and,  more  so,  that 


VICTORIANO   SALADO   ALBAREZ.  295 

he  had  shot  at  anyone;  that  she  knows  that  the 
hat  and  the  saddle  (given  in  evidence  at  the  in- 
quest) are  shown  in  all  the  cases  similar  to  this, 
to  prove  that  they  were  pierced;  but  that  said 
marks  are  ancient,  as  she  had  been  told  that,  in 
the  inquest  held  two  years  ago  on  the  death  of 
Perfecto  Sánchez,  they  were  in  evidence;  that  three 
days  since,  on  the  death  of  her  lover  being  known 
in  San  Buenaventura,  the  Señor  Gómez  Gálvez 
came  to  her  and  said  "  Now,  ingrate,  you  see  what 
has  happened.  You  may  blame  yourself  for  this." 
And,  that  then  he  attempted  to  embrace  her  and 
when  deponent  resisted  him,  the  Señor  Don  Pedro 
ordered  that  they  should  put  her  off  the  place, 
which  was  done  without  permitting  her  to  remove 
her  possessions. 

The  declaration  having  been  read,  she  approved 
it,  not  knowing  how  to  sign  her  name. 


On  the  fourteenth  of  June,  when  it  was  known 
that  Señor  Don  Pedro  Gómez  Gálvez  was  there, 
the  personnel  of  the  court  went  to  the  house  of 
said  person,  for  the  purpose  of  interrogating  him. 
After  the  affirmation  prescribed  by  law,  he  stated 
that  he  was  married,  forty  years  of  age,  native 
of  the  Hacienda  dc  San  Buenaventura  and  inhab- 
itant of  Guadalajara;  that  he  knew  Ignacio  Al- 
meida, carpenter,  who  worked  on  his  place  for  the 
space  of  six  months;  that,  finally,  having  lost  vari- 


296  MODERN   MEXICAN  AUTHORS. 

ous  animals  from  San  Buenaventura,  as  well  as 
money  and  other  things,  and  having  suspicion  that 
the  thief  might  be  Almeida,  he  had  informed  the 
Municipal  President,  who  ordered  the  arrest  of  the 
criminal;  that  he  knows  the  said  Almeida  was 
killed  by  his  guards,  when  attempting  escape,  at  the 
place  called  Corral  de  piedra,  and  that  he  shot 
a  pistol  at  the  said  policemen;  that  he  does  not 
know  Marta  Ruiz,  nor  has  ever  made  love  ad- 
vances to  her,  nor  was  this  the  motive  of  his  de- 
nunciation of  Almeida,  but  the  desire  to  recover 
the  property,  which  he  had  lost. 


On  this  date,  the  preceding  deponent  was  con- 
fronted with  the  witness  Marta  Ruiz  (who  was 
brought  by  force  from  her  house),  on  account  of 
the  discrepancies  found  in  their  statements.  The 
Ruiz  woman,  greatly  excited,  said  to  Señor  Cal- 
vez, "  You  demanded  my  love  and  told  me,  if  I 
gave  you  no  encouragement,  you  would  incriminate 
Ignacio."  The  Señor  Gómez  Gálvez  replied  to 
the  Ruiz  woman,  "  It  is  false :  I  do  not  even  know 
you." 

It  was  impossible  to  proceed  further  in  the  mat- 
ter, as  the  Ruiz  woman  could  not  reply,  having 
suffered  a  nervous  attack;  the  investigation  was 
therefore  held  as  closed;  the  presiding  Judge,  the 
Alcalde,  and  the  witnesses  signed  the  records. 


VICTORIANO   SALADO   ALBAREZ.  297 

Huizache,  July  i,  1900.  No  grounds  for  pro- 
ceeding against  any  specific  person,  having  resulted 
from  the  investigation,  these  records  may  be  placed 
in  the  archives.  It  is  so  ordered.  Thus  decreed 
the  first  constitutional  Judge,  acting  in  accord  with 
the  assisting  witnesses. 

FEDERICO  GAMBOA. 

If  I  must  confess  the  truth,  Don  Federico  Gam- 
boa  was  not  agreeable,  as  a  writer,  to  me.  His 
book,  Del  Natural,  seemed  to  me  the  effort,  not 
always  well  sustained,  of  a  beginner  of  promise; 
his  Aparencias,  I  considered  a  translated  and 
adapted  novel,  after  the  fashion  of  the  dramas 
and  comedies  which  formerly  were  "  adapted " 
for  the  Mexican  stage;  his  Impresiones  y  Recuer- 
dos, in  which  the  author  describes  and  discusses 
the  time  when  he  smoked  his  first  cigarette,  the 
color  of  the  eyes  of  his  first  sweetheart,  the  fer- 
rule with  which  his  teacher  punished  his  boyish 
pranks,  and  other  equally  interesting  matters, 
made  on  me  the  impression  of  an  immense  exhibi- 
tion of  personal  vanity,  in  which  the  writer  an- 
nounced his  res  et  gesta,  with  the  gravity  with 
which  a  Goncourt  or  a  Daudet  might  make  known 
what  he  had  done  m  life. 

Thus,  then,  his  new  book.  Suprema  Ley,  sur- 
prised me  agreeably,  constituted  a  revelation, —  of 
a  truthfulness  so  admirable,  so  vivid,  so  passional. 


298  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

SO  full  of  that  well-founded  realism,  which  does 
not  permit  a  book  to  remain  on  the  shelf  of 
the  bookseller,  but  places  it  upon  the  table  of  the 
reader  and  in  the  memory  of  the  lover  of  the 
beautiful. 

If  one  did  not  see,  at  the  close  of  the  volume, 
the  dates  on  which  it  was  begun  and  concluded, 
he  might  believe  that  it  had  sprung  forth  com- 
plete, a  spontaneous  improvisation,  a  work  of  the 
instant,  in  which  neither  art,  nor  trammels  of 
execution,  nor  imperfections  of  detail  had  had  a 
part. 

In  the  novel  there  is  not  a  needless  character, 
nor  a  useless  incident,  nor  a  single  page  which 
does  not  contribute  to  the  completing  of  the  ac- 
tion and  which  has  not  a  direct  relation  to  the  plot. 
Even  the  descriptions,  in  which  our  novelists  are 
prodigal  to  the  degree  of  piling  them  up  indiscrim- 
inately, are  in  Suprema  Ley,  only  different  modes  in 
which  the  subject  is  impressed  by  reality.  In 
Gamboa's  work,  Belen,  the  Theatre,  the  Alameda 
—  especially  the  Alameda  —  perform  the  part  of 
the  chorus  in  Greek  tragedy. 

The  characters  are  enchantingly  real,  to  the 
degree  that,  after  reading  the  book,  we  feel  that 
we  have  encountered,  seen,  and  spoken  with  the 
actors.  Ortegal  is  a  degenerate,  whom  we  all 
know;  Clothllde  is  a  fallen  woman  with  a  mask 
of  sanctity,  a  profligate,  who  entered  the  world 
for  man's  undoing ;  Berón,  Holas,  even  the  Comen- 


VICTORIANO   SALADO   ALBAREZ.  299 

dador  and  Don  Francisco  are  the  very  breath  of 
life,  are  full  of  enchanting  and  noble  realism. 

One  given  to  seek  similarity  between  the  old 
and  the  new  would  claim  a  likeness  between  Dr. 
Pascual,  the  learned  man  of  the  Rongón  Macquart 
and  the  poor  court  writer,  between  Clothilde  of 
Zola  and  the  Clothilde  of  Gamboa,  between  the 
first  night  which  the  lovers  spent  united  and  the 
first  night  of  Laurent  and  Therese  Raquin,  between 
the  servant  whose  type  Gamboa  barely  sketches 
and  the  Juliana  Conseira  de  Ega  of  Quieros. 
These  similarities  may  or  may  not  exist,  but  no 
charge  can  be  made  against  Gamboa  on  account 
of  them;  he  painted  reality  and  the  other  novelists 
painted  reality,  and  nothing  resembles  itself  more 
closely  than  truth. 

Gamboa  does  not  possess  what  I  will  call  the 
epic  faculty,  that  is,  the  faculty  of  describing  ex- 
ternal nature,  as  Delgado  for  instance;  as  little 
does  he  have,  as  Campo,  the  privilege  of  retaining, 
in  memory,  phrases  and  gestures;  nor  does  he  pos- 
sess a  vein  of  humor,  as  these  writers  and  as  Cuel- 
lar;  he  is,  before  all  and  beyond  all,  an  analyst,  a 
dissector  of  souls  who  sees  to  the  bottom  of  hearts, 
who  seeks  the  lust  that  dishonors,  the  meanness 
that  kills,  the  hatred  that  causes  horror.  For  this 
reason,  in  my  opinion,  he  will  never  be  popular, 
while  his  luckier  fellows  will  gain  proselytes  and 
friends  as  long  as  they  write. 

This  is  not  saying  that  his  book  lacks  attractive 


300  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

characters.  Prieto  is  a  well  depicted  jester,  Chu- 
cho an  admirably  cut  figure,  Don  Eustaquio, 
though  somewhat  melodramatic  and  somewhat  out 
of  place  in  that  collection  of  beings  of  flesh  and 
bone,  is  the  providence  which,  dressed  in  jeans 
and  working  in  clay,  is  brought  in  to  give  some 
outlet  from  the  tangle;  but,  above  all,  the  family 
of  Ortegal  is  of  the  most  dehcate  and  tender  which 
has  been  here  described.  Lamartine  and  Daudet 
might  well  have  drawn  the  picture,  if  Lamartine 
and  Daudet  had  dedicated  themselves  to  painting 
Mexican  types  of  the  humbler  class. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  world  of  Gamboa  is, 
as  that  of  Carlyle,  a  heap  of  fetid  filth,  shadowed 
by  a  leaden  sky,  where  only  groans  and  cries  of 
desperation  are  heard;  but,  as  in  the  terrible  imag- 
ination of  the  British  thinker,  flashes  of  kindliness 
bringing  counsel  and  resignation,  cleave  the  sky 
of  this  Gehenna. 

In  fine.  Suprema  Ley  is  a  great  success,  a  success 
which  compensates  for  many  failures  and,  by  it, 
Señor  Gamboa  has  placed  himself  among  the  first 
Mexican  novelists  —  not,  indeed,  first  of  all,  be- 
cause for  me.  Delgado  and  Micros  hold  yet  a 
higher  place. 


IRENEO    PAZ. 


301 


IRENEO  PAZ. 


Ireneo  Paz  was  born  at  Guadalajara,  on  July  3, 
1836.  His  father  died,  when  Ireneo  was  a  child, 
leaving  the  widow  In  poverty.  When  a  boy  of 
thirteen  years,  he  began  his  studies  at  the  Semina- 
rio, laboring  for  his  support  throughout  his  course. 
By  diligence  and  earnestness,  he  made  an  excel- 
lent record,  gaining  the  respect  and  esteem  of  teach- 
ers and  fellow-students.  Graduating  from  the 
Seminario  in  1 851,  he  took  his  baccalaureate  In 
philosophy  at  the  University  in    1S54,   and  was 


302  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

licensed  as  a  lawyer  in  1861.  In  his  youth  he 
wrote  verse  "  as  a  tree  sprouts  leaves."  Identify- 
ing himself  with  the  liberal  party,  he  soon  became 
prominent  in  politics.  He  was  also  a  Captain  in 
the  national  guard.  During  this  period  he  pub- 
lished El  Independiente  (The  Independent),  El 
Dia  (The  Day),  and  Sancho  Panza. 

When  the  Imperial  forces,  in  1863,  took  posses- 
sion of  Guadalajara,  Ireneo  Paz  withdrew  to  Co- 
lima, where  he  was  editor  of  the  Official  Periodical 
of  that  State,  and  Magistrate  of  the  Court  of  Jus- 
tice. A  year  later,  the  approach  of  the  Imperial- 
ists forced  him  to  abandon  these  offices.  He  was 
with  the  Federal  forces  of  the  coast  until  their 
rout  at  Zapotlan,  when  he  was  one  of  the  three 
to  arrange  the  terms  of  capitulation  with  General 
Oroñoz.  He  was  kept  under  surveillance  at 
Guadalajara,  where  he,  nevertheless,  dedicated 
himself  to  the  Republican  cause,  establishing  El 
Payaso  (The  Clown),  which  vigorously  combated 
monarchical  ideas,  with  audacity  and  satire  —  re- 
placing it  later  by  El  Noticioso  (The  Well-in- 
formed) .  Maximilian  himself  was  impressed  by 
the  little  sheet  and  ordered  that  a  full  set  should  be 
secured  for  him.  On  the  occasion  of  an  operatic 
triumph,  at  Guadalajara,  by  the  prima  donna,  An- 
gela Peralta, —  Ireneo  Paz  gave  vent  to  some  dem- 
ocratic sentiments,  which  led  to  his  arrest  and  im- 
prisonment on  November  12,  1866.  His  stay 
there  was  brief,  as  the  Republican  forces  gained 


IRENEO    PAZ.  303 

possession  of  the  town,  one  month  later.  With  the 
full  re-establishment  of  the  Republic,  he  was  ap- 
pointed in  1867  Secretary  of  State  for  Sinaloa. 
A  few  months  later,  he  was  again  actively  interest- 
ed, against  Juarez,  in  favor  of  the  ideas  of  Diaz. 
The  opposition  failed  and  Paz  was  again  in  prison, 
this  time  in  Santiago  Tlaltelolco;  he  was  later 
transferred  to  La  Députacion.  During  his  eleven 
months  in  prison,  he  vigorously  assailed  the  Juarez 
regime  in  the  popular  anti-administration  journal. 
El  Padre  Cobos  (Father  Cobos).  After  his  re- 
lease, he  continued  his  attacks  in  newspaper  articles, 
in  popular  clubs,  and  in  the  secret  plottings  pre- 
ceding the  revolution  known  as  La  Noria.  Not- 
withstanding all  the  efforts  against  him,  Juarez 
was  re-elected  in  1871,  but  shortly  died.  Ireneo 
Paz  was  active  in  the  revolution  of  La  Noria  and 
in  that  of  Tuxtepec,  four  years  later  —  supporting 
Diaz  on  both  occasions  and  suffering  imprisonment 
twice. 

The  mere  list  of  the  books  written  by  Ireneo 
Paz  is  too  long  for  quoting  here.  Many  of  them 
are  historical  novels  dealing  with  Mexican  themes. 
He  has  written  too  much  for  all  of  it  to  have  great 
literary  merit,  but  he  Is  widely  read  and  well 
known.  His  style  is  often  tedious  and  prolix,  but 
many  Interesting,  and  even  thrilling,  passages  oc- 
cur In  his  works.  He  has  a  quiet  and  dry  humor 
and,  sometimes,  keen  satire.  His  Algunas  Cam- 
pañas (Some  Campaigns),  is  practically  a  history 


304  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

of  events  in  which  he  himself  has  participated. 
Our  quotations  are  from  it.  In  poetry  Paz  ranges 
from  satire  to  love,  from  humor  to  philosophy. 

Ireneo  Paz  has  long  lived  in  the  City  of  Mexico, 
where  he  has  been  a  member  of  Congress,  in 
both  houses  and  a  Regidor.  He  has  been,  and  is, 
editor  of  La  Patria  (The  Fatherland).  He  has 
been  president  of  the  Prensa  Asociada  (Associated 
Press)  and  of  the  Liceo  Hidalgo.  He  was  a 
Commissioner  from  Mexico  to  the  World's  Colum- 
bian Exposition,  and  as  a  result  of  his  visit  to  our 
country  wrote  La  Exposición  de  Chicago  (The 
Chicago  Exposition). 

THE  AGREEMENT  OF  EL  ZACATE  GRULLO. 

In  an  hacienda,  situated  on  the  Autlan  road, 
with  an  obscure  name,  which,  nevertheless  became 
famous  in  the  annals  of  the  period,  we,  the  troops 
under  command  of  the  Generals  Anacleto  Herrera 
y  Cairo,  Antonio  Neri  and  Toro  Manuel,  includ- 
ing a  whole  regiment  of  officers  and  some  few 
common  soldiers,  pulled  ourselves  together,  though 
truly  In  a  pitiable  state. 

The  name  of  this  afterward  celebrated  hacienda 
deserves  special  mention  —  El  Zacate  Grullo. 

At  the  hacienda  of  El  Zacate  Grullo  we  planned 
to  impart  some  organization  to  those  forces,  the 
scanty  remnants  of  what  had  been  the  Army  of 
the  Centre.     It  was  agreed  that,  for  the  time,  they 


IRENEO    PAZ.  305 

should  bear  the  name  of  the  United  Brigades. 
But,  promptly,  this  other  question  had  to  rise  — 
who  was  to  command  them? 

The  regular  leaders  at  once  fixed  their  eyes 
upon  the  valiant  and  sympathetic  General  Herrera 
y  Cairo;  but  the  chief  obstacle  to  his  taking  com- 
mand was  in  the  great  preponderance  of  irregulars. 
Would  Rojas  and  his  companions  submit  to  the 
command  of  a  man  of  fine  manners  and  good  edu- 
cation? The  next  thought  was  of  Rojas  or  of 
Julio  Garcia;  it  was  certain  that  two  State  Gover- 
nors would  not  place  themselves  at  the  orders  of 
the  former,  even  though  he  had  the  greater  forces, 
particularly  as  he  had,  among  the  French,  the 
reputation  of  a  bandit,  for  which  reason  they  had 
declared  him  an  outlaw  and  had  proposed  pursuing 
him  and  treating  him  as  other  bandits.  Don  Julio 
had  the  friendship  of  all  and  possessed  qualities, 
which  connected  him  with  both  of  these  opposite 
factions.  He  had  been  a  companion  of  Rojas,  he 
understood  pillage,  and  he  also  knew  how,  at  the 
proper  time,  to  assert  his  dignity  as  a  public  man, 
rising  above  his  antecedents;  but  no  one  gave  him 
credit  for  military  ability.  That  Don  Julio  was 
a  sort  of  bond  of  union  between  the  two  leaders 
mentioned,  served  for  nought  then,  in  that  emer- 
gency. 

But  to  continue  with  the  facts. 

The  Generals  Herrera,  García  and  Rojas,  as- 
sisted by  Aristeo  Moreno,  who  was  the  secretary 


306  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

of  the  first  and  the  very  intimate  friend  of  the 
last,  passed  the  whole  day  in  private  conference. 
I  supposed,  and  my  supposition  was  later  con- 
firmed, that  Rojas  had  refused  to  permit  my  pres- 
ence in  that  council. 

A  general  order  was  issued,  that  after  the  six 
o'clock  roll-call,  all  the  leaders  and  ofiicers  should 
present  themselves  at  the  lodgings  of  General  Ro- 
jas, in  order  to  be  informed  of  what  had  been 
decided  in  the  council  of  generals. 

We  all  hastened  to  the  meeting,  hoping  that 
from  the  discussion  had  flashed  out  the  ray  of 
light  so  much  needed  in  escaping  from  the  diffi- 
culties, in  which  we  were  entangled.  Rojas  occu- 
pied the  centre  of  a  table  placed  at  one  end  of 
the  main  saloon  of  the  hacienda.  At  the  sides 
were  Generals  Garcia  and  Herrera  y  Cairo,  and 
at  the  end,  near  six  candlesticks  with  lights  was 
Aristeo  Moreno,  surrounded  by  papers.  I  do  not 
know  whether  because  the  candles  were  of  tallow, 
or  because  of  the  state  of  agitation  in  which  our 
spirits  were,  we  observed  that  the  faces  of  those 
at  the  table  appeared  extremely  pale. 

When  the  hundred  and  more  officers,  of  the 
grade  of  Lieutenant  and  upward,  of  which  the 
United  Brigades  boasted,  were  gathered  together 
in  the  hall,  we  observed  that  five  hundred  galeanos 
surrounded  the  hacienda  house.  We  were,  then, 
to  deliberate  under  pressure  of  five  hundred  ban- 


IRENEO    PAZ.  307 

dits,  who  could  pulverize  us  at  the  least  signal  from 
their  chief. 

Rojas  solemnly  said:  "  Mr.  Secretary,  read  the 
agreement  which  we  have  made." 

Aristeo  Moreno  read  the  considerations  of  that 
abortion,  which  terminated  with  the  following  ar- 
ticles : 

Article  I.  The  undersigned  solemnly  bind 
themselves,  under  oath,  to  defend  the  Republic 
against  all  intervention,  battling,  If  need  be,  until 
death. 

Art.  2.  All  those  who  do  not  approve  the  pres- 
ent compact,  showing  themselves  Indifferent  to  the 
national  defense,  will  be  considered  enemies  and 
shot. 

Art.  3.  Those  who,  in  any  manner  whatever, 
shall  be  unfaithful  to  the  Repubhc,  and  shall  make 
alliance  with  the  Empire,  shall  be  shot. 

Art.  4.  Populations  where  the  Republican 
forces  are  not  received  with  rejoicing,  open  hos- 
pitality being  refused,  shall  be  burned  and  their 
inhabitants  shall  be  compelled  to  fight  as  common 
soldiers  or  to  be  shot,  according  to  the  gravity  of 
their  offense. 

Art.  5.  All  prisoners  taken  from  the  enemy,  of 
whatever  category  they  may  be,  will  be  immedi- 
ately shot,  without  the  necessity  of  personal  iden- 
tification. 

Art.  6.  All  individual  property  becomes  the 
property  of  the  United  Brigades;  consequently  all 


308  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

who  refuse  to  furnish  rations,  fodder,  money,  or 
whatever  else  may  be  demanded,  shall  be  shot. 

Art.  7.  AH  who  compose  the  United  Brigades 
are  free  to  sign  this  agreement  or  not,  but  once 
having  signed  it,  he  who  does  not  support  it,  or 
who  shall  commit  the  crime  of  desertion,  shall  be 
shot. 

Given  in  the  Hacienda  del  Zacate  Grullo,  etc. 

When  Aristeo  Moreno  had  finished  reading. 
General  Rojas  with  a  voice  apparently  calm,  but 
with  the  black  rings  about  his  eyes  unusually  dark 
and  deep,  a  certain  sign  that  he  was  breathing  out 
hatred  and  that  bad  sentiments  animated  him,  said, 
addressing  those  of  us  who  w^ere  in  the  hall: 

"  That  is  what  I  and  my  companions  have  sworn 
to  sustain.  Those  who  are  in  accord  with  the 
plan  may  come  to  sign  it.  Those,  who  are  not,  are 
free  to  ask  for  their  passports." 

The  profoundest  silence  reigned. 

"  Does  no  one  w^sh  his  passport?  "  he  asked. 

And  as  an  equal  silence  reigned,  he  said  in  a 
voice  less  abrupt:  "  Very  well,  let  them  come  to 
sign." 

Some  started  to  the  table  in  order  to  sign,  but 
as  others  vacillated  or  remained  near  the  door, 
Rojas  spoke  again: 

"  No  one  can  leave  the  hacienda,  unless  accom- 
panied by  one  of  my  aides,  after  he  has  signed. 
That  is  the  order  I  have  given  the  guard  which 
is  watching  the  doors." 


IRENEO    PAZ.  309 

In  fact,  the  galeones  were  watching  the  door 
from  the  hall  to  the  corridor,  that  of  the  street, 
and  all  the  other  exits;  there  seemed  no  possible 
means  of  escape  without  placing  one's  signature  to 
the  shameful  document.  Nudgings  with  the  arms, 
joggings  with  the  feet,  and  words  said  so  low  that 
they  seemed  rather  the  buzzing  of  a  fly,  were  the 
only  protests  which  worthy  and  honorable  leaders, 
there  present,  dared  make. 

Rojas  signed,  and  his  secretary  who  was  an  in- 
significant Indian,  signed;  Herrera  y  Cairo  fol- 
lowed, his  secretary,  Arlsteo  Moreno  signing  be- 
side him;  General  Julio  Garcia  was  called  and  I 
felt  a  shiver  run  through  me  from  head  to  foot, 
because  I  ought  to  follow  him  as  his  secretary,  and, 
no  less,  the  secretary  of  the  republican  government 
of  Colima.  ...  In  that  moment  of  supreme 
anxiety,  I  felt  it  the  height  of  folly  to  publicly 
oppose  the  signing  of  that  infernal  abortion,  which 
would  be  the  same  as  to  provoke  an  undesirable 
quarrel  in  which  the  probabilities  were  that  we  who 
were  decent  men,  being  few,  would  perish  at  the 
hands  of  the  bandits,  who  were  many.  Fortu- 
nately three  copies  had  to  be  signed;  Don  Julio 
wrote  slowly  and  I  had  time  to  climb,  unobserved, 
through  a  small  window,  which  opened  from  the 
hall  into  the  Inner  rooms  of  the  hacienda,  which 
served  us  as  lodgings,  where  I  arrived,  greatly 
agitated,  and,  promptly  undressing,  went  to  bed. 
As  a  precaution,  which  served  me  well,  I  bound  a 


3IO  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

white  cloth  around  my  head  and  surrounded  my- 
self with  medicines. 

Scarcely  had  I  done  all  this,  when  an  adjutant 
entered  my  room  and  asked  if  I  were  there. 

"What  is  wanted?"  I  asked  him. 

"  The  generals  need  you." 

"Tell  them  to  excuse  me;  my  head  aches  ter- 
ribly and  you  see  that  I  am  lying  down." 

"  Are  you  not  coming  to  sign?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,"  I  replied,  rolling  myself  up  in  the  bed. 

"Why?" 

"  Because  I  do  not  wish  to  dishonor  myself, 
even  more  in  the  eyes  of  my  fellow-patriots  than 
in  those  of  the  enemy." 

"  Then  you  believe  we  have  done  badly  in  sign- 
ing It?" 

"  Yes,  sir;  very  badly." 

"  Then  you  will  not  sign  it?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"But,  what  shall  I  say  to  Rojas?" 

"  That  he  may  order  me  shot." 

"  Very  well,"  he  said  and  withdrew,  annoyed. 

Three  copies  were  signed,  one  for  each  general, 
and  when  the  act  was  concluded  my  room  was  filled 
with  leaders  and  officers,  who  desired  to  know  my 
opinion  about  that  absurd  agreement.  I  said  to 
them  all  that  it  was  unworthy  and  that  I  would  not 
sign  it. 

Some  said  that  there  ought  to  be  an  uprising, 
others  desired  to  fly,  though  they  saw  this  pact. 


IRENEO    PAZ.  311 

like  an  anathema,  which  would  follow  them  every- 
where, a  sentence  of  death.  Death  and  dishonor 
if  they  fulfilled  it;  death  and  dishonor  if  they  did 
not.  There  were  some  who  wept  with  rage.  I 
attempted  to  console  them  as  well  as  I  could  and 
gradually  they  departed  until,  finally,  only  Crispin 
Medina  and  Juan  Valadéz  were  with  me. 

*'  Did  you  sign?  "  I  asked  them. 

"  Unfortunately  yes,  but  only  on  one  of  the  cop- 
ies." 

"On  which?" 

"  On  that  of  Don  Julio." 

At  that  moment,  he  entered. 

*'  Are  you  still  talking  of  that  unhappy  docu- 
ment? "  he  asked  us. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  And  what  do  you  think?  " 

"  We  think.  General,"  I  said  to  him,  "  as  every 
worthy  man,  who  respects  himself  and  who  de- 
sires an  honorable  career  in  politics,  must  think; 
this  agreement  is  absurd  because  impracticable;  it 
is  hateful  because  it  wars  against  all  the  good  senti- 
ments of  mankind;  and  it  is  monstrous,  immoral, 
iniquitous,  because  it  orders  destruction  and  slaugh- 
ter." 

"  You  are  right,"  he  answered.  "  I  ought  not 
to  have  agreed  so  far  with  Rojas,  and  for  my  part, 
the  compact  is  broken  from  this  moment." 

He  drew  forth  his  copy  and  tore  it  to  pieces. 

The  next  day  on  taking  up  our  line  of  march, 


312  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

Rojas  said  to  me:  "You  not  only  do  not  sign 
yourself  but  breed  disaffection  among  the  other 
leaders." 

I  frankly  told  him  my  opinion,  which  he  heard 
with  interest.     When  I  had  finished  he  added : 

"  I  am  not  shooting  you  now,  because  Julio  and 
his  people  forbid  it.  .  .  .  But,  we  will  see 
later.  .  .  .  We  have  a  lot  of  unsettled  ac- 
counts." 

He  cast  a  sinister  glance  at  me  and  then  left, 
urging  his  horse  to  a  gallop. 


JOSE  LOPEZ-PORTILLO  Y  ROJAS. 


313 


JOSE  LOPEZ-PORTILLO  Y  ROJAS. 


José  López-Portillo  y  Rojas  was  born  at  Guad- 
alajara May  26,  1850.  His  father  was  an  emi- 
nent lawyer  and  teacher  in  the  law  school.  Son  of 
wealthy  parents,  the  young  man  was  given  every 
opportunity  for  study,  first  in  his  home  city  and 
later  at  the  capital.  His  final  studies  in  law  were 
made  at  Guadalajara,  where,  in  1871,  he  became 
licenciado.     His  parents  then  gave  him  an  oppor- 


314  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

tunity  for  foreign  travel.  He  visited  the  United 
States,  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  France  and 
Italy,  Egypt  and  the  Holy  Land.  On  his  return 
he  published  his  Impresiones  de  viaje  (Impres- 
sions of  Travel).  Since  that  time  Señor  López- 
Portillo  y  Rojas,  has  practiced  law,  represented 
his  state  in  the  National  Congress,  taught  in  the 
law  school  and  done  important  work  in  journalism. 
His  writings  are  always  clear,  direct  and  marked 
by  a  literary  style  of  unusual  grace  and  purity. 
Besides  his  scattered  articles  and  the  book  already 
mentioned,  he  has  edited  —  with  notable  scholar- 
ship— ^  the  interesting  Crónica  de  Jalisco  (Chron- 
icle of  Jalisco)  of  Fray  Antonio  Tello,  and  written 
a  novel,  La  Parcela  (The  Piece  of  Land).  It  is 
from  this  last  work  that  our  selections  are  taken. 

In  La  Parcela  the  author  presents  a  sketch  of 
characteristic  country  life.  The  novel  has  for  pur- 
pose the  illustration  of  the  strong,  almost  morbid, 
affection  for  land  felt  by  the  native  proprietor. 

Don  Pedro  Ruiz  is  a  wealthy  and  progressive 
haciendero  of  pure  Indian  blood.  He  is  noble- 
hearted,  thoughtful,  shrewd,  intelligent  and  a  man 
of  resources.  A  widower,  he  is  devotedly  attached 
to  his  only  son,  Gonzalo,  a  fine  young  fellow  of 
twenty-three  years.  The  owner  of  the  adjoining 
property,  Don  Miguel  Diaz,  has  been  a  life-long 
friend,  and  between  them  exists  the  artificial  rela- 
tion of  compadre.  His  wife,  Doña  Paz,  is  a 
cousin  of  Don   Pedro;   there  is  one  daughter,   a 


JOSE    LOPEZ-PORTILLO    Y    ROJAS.  315 

beautiful,  gentle  but  rather  weak  lady  named  Ra- 
mona. The  two  young  persons  —  Gonzalo  and 
Ramona  —  have  grown  up  like  brother  and  sister; 
their  childish  affection  has  ripened  into  love,  and  at 
the  beginning  of  the  story  they  are  engaged  to  be 
married.  Don  Pedro  is  by  far  the  richest  man 
of  all  the  district.  Don  Miguel  is  also  wealthy, 
but  has  seen  with  some  jealousy  and  dissatisfaction 
the  constantly  increasing  difference  between  their 
fortunes.  This  dissatisfaction,  encouraged  by  a 
scheming  lawyer,  leads  to  his  claiming  a  worthless 
bit  of  property  on  the  borders  of  his  and  Don 
Pedro's  lands.  The  value  of  the  land  is  but  a  trifle 
to  either  party;  but  Don  Pedro,  sure  that  right  is 
on  his  side,  refuses  to  yield  to  the  unjust  demands 
of  his  neighbor. 

Don  Miguel  at  first  seizes  the  property  by  force, 
but  is  dispossessed  by  Don  Pedro's  tenants.  The 
bitter  feeling  aroused  by  this  incident  leads  to  a 
battle  between  two  tenants  of  the  two  masters; 
both  of  the  fighters  are  thrown  into  jail.  Carried 
into  the  courts,  the  boundary  line  is  infamously 
determined  by  a  corrupted  judge;  a  higher  court 
reverses  the  decision  and  Don  Pedro  is  supported 
in  his  rights.  Furious  with  anger,  Don  Miguel 
seeks  to  injure  his  neighbor.  Through  a  wicked 
scheme  plotted  with  the  local  authority,  the  tenant 
of  Don  Pedro,  who  has  been  in  jail,  is  assassinated. 
A  great  dam,  which  holds  back  a  mighty  volume  of 
water  for  driving  mills,   irrigating  the  property, 


3l6  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

etc.,  is  damaged  by  Don  Miguel's  orders,  witli 
the  idea  that  the  inundation  will  ruin  the  property 
of  Don  Pedro. 

Throughout  these  various  exciting  incidents  — 
seizure,  dispossession,  law-suit,  appeal,  assassina- 
tion and  diabolical  destruction  —  the  love  affairs 
of  the  young  people  are  naturally  more  or  less 
disturbed.  Having  carried  things  to  such  a  cli- 
max, the  author  brings  about  a  sudden  reconcilia- 
tion and  the  story  ends. 

EXTRACTS  FROM  LA  PARCELA. 

"  Good  morning,  compadre  Don  Miguel,"  said 
Don  Pedro  as  soon  as  he  recognized  the  horseman 
who  arrived. 

"  Good  morning,  compadre,"  replied  the  new- 
comer, checking  his  horse  and  dismounting. 

The  servant  who  accompanied  him  quickly  dis- 
mounted from  his  horse  and  went  to  hold,  by  the 
bridle,  that  of  his  master.  Then  he  bent  to  re- 
move his  master's  spurs. 

"  No,  Marcos,"  said  Don  Miguel  to  him,  "  do 
not  remove  them.     We  shall  go  on  at  once." 

"How!  compadre,"  said  Don  Pedro;  "then 
you  will  not  remain  to  take  breakfast  with  me?  " 

"  No,  not  today,  because  I  must  arrive  at  Der- 
ramadero before  6,  and  it  is  yet  distant." 

"  That  is  true,  compadre;  but  there  will  be  an- 
other day,  will  there  not?     Pass  in,  pass  in.      Do 


JOSE  lÓpez-portillo  y  rojas.        317 


you  desire  that  we  sit  down  here  on  the  bench  to 
enjoy  the  fresh  air,  or  shall  we  go  into  the  office?  " 

"  We  are  very  well  here.  Do  not  trouble  your- 
self." 

"  Very  well.     What  are  you  doing  so  early?  " 

"  It  does  not  please  me  to  visit.  I  come  to 
treat  of  our  business." 

''What  business?" 

"  That  which  we  have  pending." 

"  But  we  have  nothing  pending." 

*'  How  not?     The  Monte  de  los  Pericos." 

"What  about  it?" 

"  I  want  you  to  decide  whether  you  will  yield 
it  to  me." 

"  Why  do  we  speak  of  this?  A  thousand  times 
I  have  told  you  that  the  Monte  is  mine." 

"  That  is  what  you  say,  but  the  truth  is  that  it 
belongs  to  me." 

"  Compadre,  it  is  better  that  we  talk  of  some- 
thing else;  leave  this  matter.  Are  we  not 
friends?" 

"  We  are  so;  but  that  is  not  to  say  that  you  may 
deprive  me  of  my  things.  What  sort  of  friendship 
is  that?" 


In  fact,  at  a  very  short  distance  from  where  the 
group  found  itself,  there  were  seen  down  below, 
through  the  shrubbery,  the  four  men  of  Don  Mig- 
uel. They  were  stretched  out  on  the  ground  upon 
their  blankets,    and   in   the   shadow   of  the   trees 


3l8  MODERN   MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

conversed  without  suspicion,  with  their  eyes  fast- 
ened on  the  house  of  Palmar,  which  was  visible 
from  there.  Their  horses,  unbridled  and  fastened 
to  the  trees,  were  pasturing  on  the  green  herbage. 

*'  But  man!  How  good  was  that  blow?  "  said 
one  of  the  mozos.     "  It  still  gives  me  delight." 

"  What  a  surprise  for  the  poor  montero!  "  ex- 
claimed another. 

"  What  will  Don  Pedro  say  ?  " 

"  He  will  have  to  calm  his  rage." 

And  they  laughed  with  their  mouths  open.  Just 
then  they  heard  the  tramp  of  horses,  and  turning 
their  heads  saw  Don  Pedro,  followed  by  his  men. 
They  tried  to  rise  to  draw  their  pistols. 

*'  Do  not  stir!  "  said  Don  Pedro  in  a  terrible 
voice,  "  or  we  will  shoot  you."  And  he  and  all  his 
held  their  arms  ready. 

There  was  nothing  to  be  done.  The  servants  of 
Don  Miguel  comprehended  that  all  resistance  was 
useless. 

"  Master,  we  are  taken,"  said  one  of  them. 

"  Do  you  surrender  at  discretion?  " 

"  There  is  no  way  to  avoid  it." 

"  Then  give  up  your  arms.  Look,  Roque,  dis- 
mount and  take  away  from  the  gentlemen  their 
rifles,  their  pistols,  their  sabres  and  their  cartridge 
boxes." 

They  gave  up  with  trembling  hands  the  pistols 
and  the  cartridge  boxes.  The  rifles  were  hanging 
from  the  saddles  of  their  horses. 


JOSE    LOPEZ-PORTILLO    Y    ROJAS.  319 

"  Now,"  continued  Don  Pedro,  "  tie  their  hands 
behind  them  and  help  them  to  get  onto  their  horses. 
Distribute  their  arms  so  that  their  weight  shall 
not  be  too  great,  and  let  each  one  talce  the  halter 
of  a  horse  in  order  that  he  may  lead  it." 

All  was  done  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning. 
The  men  of  Don  Pedro  strongly  tied  the  hands 
of  the  conquered  behind  their  backs  with  the  satis- 
faction of  the  tyrant  characteristic  of  all  conquer- 
ors. One  of  the  captured,  Panfilo  Vargas,  was 
vexed  and  said : 

"  They  gain  advantage  because  they  are  more 
than  we.  Tie  quickly  for  some  day  you  will  know 
who  I  am.  We  are  arrieros,  and  we  go  through 
the  country." 

"  Shut  your  mouth,  braggart!  "  said  Don  Pedro 
angrily.  "How  many  were  you  this  morning? 
There  were  six  of  you  to  take  the  poor  montero, 
who  was  alone  and  not  expecting  anyone.  As  for 
you,  you  were  left  here  to  guard  and  had  the 
obligation  of  not  permitting  yourselves  to  be  sur- 
prised. You  have  lost  because  you  are  fools. 
Who  told  you  to  be  careless?  They  shall  know 
that  I  do  not  sleep  nor  neglect  mine  own.  Let 
him  who  jokes  with  me  be  careful."  Then  he 
turned  to  Occguera,  saying  to  him,  "  Where  is  the 
montero  hidden?  " 

"  Here  am  I,  master,"  replied  the  montero  him- 
self, appearing  from  the  bushes. 

"  I  was  looking  for  you  to  order  you  to  attend 


320  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

to  your  business  in  your  place.  Have  no  fear.  I 
shall  send  reinforcements.  Do  not  move  from 
here  until  I  tell  you." 

"  Very  well,  sir." 

"  Let  us  go  then,"  ordered  Ruiz.  And  the 
party  put  itself  on  the  road  to  the  hacienda,  just  as 
the  sun  began  to  set  and  the  great  shadows  from 
the  mountains  were  extending  themselves  across 
the  valley. 


Roque  passed  the  arroyo  and  entered  the  camp. 
Some  time  passed  and  he  did  not  return.  Panfilo 
began  to  believe  that  he  did  not  come  to  the  ap- 
pointment because  he  was  afraid;  but  soon  he 
heard  a  whistle  at  the  foot  of  the  slope  and  saw 
Roque  on  horseback,  striking  his  chest  arrogantly, 
as  if  saying: 

"  Here  you  have  me  at  your  orders." 

On  seeing  him  Panfilo  hastened  to  meet  him. 

"  Now  yes,"  said  Roque,  "  here  I  am  ready  to 
serve  you  and  give  you  all  you  want." 

"  Well,  you  know  what  I  want ;  that  we  shall 
have  a  good  tussle." 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  here  we  have  a  good 
place." 

"  Well,  then,  do  me  the  favor,"  exclaimed  the 
impetuous  Panfilo,  drawing  a  revolver. 

"  Listen  to  me,"  said  Roque,  drawing  his  also; 
"  if  really  you  desire  that  we  shall  kill  each  other, 


JOSE    LOPEZ-PORTILLO    Y    ROJAS.  32 1 

don't  let  us  create  an  excitement.  Put  away  your 
pistol  and  take  your  machete." 

"  I  will  do  what  I  please.  Are  you  afraid  of  the 
noise .'' 

"  It  is  you  who  should  be  afraid  of  the  noise, 
lest  they  hear  us  and  come  to  part  us.  If  we  do 
not  succeed  at  the  first  shot  nothing  will  come  of  it, 
for  they  will  come  and  separate  us.  Is  that  per- 
haps what  you  want?  " 

"You  are  right,"  replied  Panfilo.  "Well, 
then,  there  is  no  time  to  lose.     Let  us  get  at  it." 


Soon  they  found  themselves  on  foot,  lame,  cov- 
ered with  dust,  pale,  horrible.  They  seemed  not 
men,  but  fierce  beasts. 


The  contest  could  not  prolong  itself  for  the 
combatants  were  exhausted.  They  could  scarcely 
move ;  but  they  did  not  wish  to  yield,  since  although 
strength  failed,  anger  more  than  abounded. 

Chance  finally  settled  the  contest.  When  Roque 
raised  his  arm  to  deal  a  blow  with  his  machete  upon 
Panfilo's  head,  the  latter  by  a  quick  movement 
tried  to  parry  the  blow,  to  save  his  head  from 
being  cleft  open.  But  he  parried  it,  not  with  his 
blade,  but  with  the  haft,  and  the  heavy  weapon 
of  his  antagonist  severed  his  smaller  fingers.  With 
this  there   fell  to  the  ground  the  sword   and  the 


322  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

amputated  fingers;  that  tinged  with  blood,  these 
livid  and  convulsed. 

"  Now,  yes,  I  have  lost,"  exclaimed  the  wound- 
ed man  with  a  gesture  of  grief. 

"  Yes,  friend,"  replied  Roque,  filled  with  con- 
sternation.    "  What  need  was  there  of  this?  " 

"  It  is  a  thing  of  bad  luck;  w'ho  may  gain  may 
lose.  You  have  proved  me  a  man;  you  cannot 
deny  that." 

"  How  have  I  to  deny  it?  The  truth  is  that 
you  have  much  courage.  Let  me  bind  your  hand 
with  this  cloth  to  see  if  the  blood  can  be  staunched." 

Saying  this  Roque  wrapped  the  hand  with  his 
great  kerchief. 

"Where  do  you  desire  that  I  take  you?"  he 
asked.     "  You  cannot  go  alone." 

"  Go  and  leave  me;  do  not  let  them  take  you 
prisoner,"  replied  Panfilo. 

"  Though  they  take  me  to  jail,  I  will  not  leave 
you." 

"  Well,  then,  help  me  to  get  near  to  Chopo. 
When  w^e  are  within  sight  of  the  hacienda  save 
yourself." 

"  Wherever  you  wish;  let  us  walk  along." 

They  started.  Panfilo  advanced  with  difficulty; 
he  murmured  and  suffered  with  thirst.  He  stopped 
frequently  to  drink  in  the  arroyos  and  Roque  gave 
him  water  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand. 

"  Friend,"  he  said,  "  it  gives  me  sorrow  to  see 
you  so  injured." 


JOSE  LOPEZ-PORTILLO  Y  ROJAS.     323 

"  There  is  no  reason;  I  am  to  blame." 

"  It  had  been  better  that  we  had  not  fought." 

"  Why  do  we  speak  of  this?  There  is  now  no 
remedy." 

The  wounded  man  was  presently  unable  to  walk. 
Supported  on  Roque's  arm  he  progressed  very 
slowly.  Finally  it  was  necessary  to  carry  him  like 
a  child.  Thus  they  came  in  sight  of  Chopo.  Pan- 
filo did  not  wish  Roque  to  carry  him  farther. 

"  May  God  reward  you,"  he  said  to  him. 
"  Leave  me  upon  this  stone  and  hurry  away  that 
they  may  not  come  to  seize  you." 

"  Though  they  seize  me,  how  can  I  leave  you 
alone?" 

"  Every  little  while  the  peons  and  their  women 
pass ;  tiiey  will  carry  me  to  my  house.     Go." 

"  Good  friend,  since  you  wish  it,  I  will  go;  but 
one  thing  is  necessary  first;  without  it  I  will  not 

go- 

"  What." 

"  That  we  may  henceforth  be  good  friends." 

"  With  much  pleasure  —  from  now  on." 

"  Do  not  hold  hatred  toward  me  and  forget  the 
things  that  have  happened." 

"Why  should  T  hold  hatred?" 

"  Because  of  what  I  did." 

"  You  did  it  like  a  man ;  it  needs  naught  said." 

"  Then  give  me  the  good  hand." 

"  Here  it  is,"  answered  the  wounded  man,  c\- 


324  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

tending  his  hot  left  hand.  Roque  grasped  it  with 
feeling. 

"  God  grant  that  you  may  soon  be  well,"  he 
murmured. 

"  With  a  maimed  hand,"  added  the  wounded 
man,  his  pallid  and  dry  lips  contracted  in. a  sad 
smile. 

"  God's  will  be  done,"  said  Roque,  sympathetic- 
ally. 

At  this  moment  a  whistle  was  heard  from  near 

by. 

"  Indeed  it  is  time  that  you  go,"  said  Panfilo. 
"  Do  you  not  see  that  persons  are  coming?  " 

He  could  scarcely  speak;  he  was  on  the  point 
of  losing  consciousness. 

Roque  hesitated. 

"  How  leave  you?  "  he  said. 

"  Go,  if  you  desire  that  we  be  friends;  if  not, 
remain." 

"Then  I  leave." 

"  Farewell,  and  run  fast  that  they  may  not  over- 
take you." 


So  urgent  and  impassioned  was  his  request  that 
the  girl  was  moved  in  spite  of  herself.  To  quench 
the  sympathy  which  rose  in  her  bosom  she  recalled 
to  herself  that  he  who  thus  spoke  was  the  nominal 
friend  of  Gonzalo,  and  on  remembering  this  she 
felt  that  for  her  budding  pity  was  substituted  vex- 


JOSE    Lc'pEZ-PORTILLO    Y    ROJAS.  325 

ation  and  indignation.  Thus  this  harsh  reproach 
escaped  her  hps: 

*'  And  you  call  yourself  the  friend  of  Gonzalo." 

Had  a  thunderbolt  fallen  at  the  feet  of  Luis  it 
would  not  have  produced  a  more  prostrating  effect. 

"  Gonzalo  is  my  friend,  in  fact,"  he  gasped. 

"  Not  if  he  knew  himself,"  insisted  Ramona, 
ironically.  "If  it  were  so  you  could  not  have 
spoken  as  you  have  just  done." 

"  Then  are  you  yet  in  relations  with  him?  " 

"  You  know  it  very  well." 

"  No,"  replied  the  unfortunate  youth,  pale  as  a 
corpse;  "  I  give  you  my  word  as  a  gentleman  that  I 
did  not  know  it.  My  father  told  me  some  days 
past  that  he  knew  these  relations  were  broken; 
only  for  this  reason  have  I  forced  myself  to  reveal 
to  you  my  love.  I  may  endure  the  fact  that  you 
do  not  love  me,  since  such  is  my  lot,  but  I  cannot  be 
willing  that  you  should  consider  me  disloyal.  I 
desire  that  you  should  esteem  me  even  if  you  may 
not  love  me." 


The  youth  in  the  meantime  had  arrived  at  his 
home,  mounted  his  horse  and  immediately  sallied 
forth  to  the  house  of  Luis.  He  sent  a  message  to 
his  former  friend  by  a  servant,  begging  him  that 
he  would  come  outside,  which  Medina  did  immedi- 
ately, well  bred  and  polite  as  he  was. 

"Gonzalo!  "  said  Medina,  extending  his  hand. 


326  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

"  I  come  to  arrange  with  you  a  very  serious  mat- 
ter," replied  our  youth,  without  extending  his. 

"  You  have  me  at  your  orders,"  rephed  Luis, 
exchanging  the  friendly  expression  of  his  face  for 
another  more  severe. 

"  Only  we  cannot  do  it  here.  Mount  your  horse 
and  take  your  arms.     1  await  you." 

And  by  the  contraction  of  his  features  and  the 
pallor  of  his  countenance,  Medina  knew  that  Gon- 
zalo had  come  on  a  warlike  errand,  and  was  not 
slow  in  divining  what  was  the  cause  of  his  annoy- 
ance. Without  replying  a  single  word  he  entered 
the  house  and  soon  reappeared  and  mounted  his 
horse,  with  a  pistol  at  his  belt  and  a  sword  at  the 
saddle.  "  Here  you  have  me,"  he  said  to  Gon- 
zalo. 

"  Come,"  replied  Gonzalo,  "  let  us  go  to  the 
field." 

Together  they  took  the  street  which  most  quickly 
would  bring  them  to  the  end  of  the  village,  and 
went  a  considerable  stretch  outside  the  town.  Leav- 
ing the  road  they  went  into  the  meadows  and 
stopped  at  a  little  open  space  formed  by  four  im- 
mense camichines,  which,  extending  over  the  space, 
their  broad,  flat  and  immovable  boughs  projected 
a  dense  and  heavy  shadow  around. 

"  I  have  brought  you  to  this  spot,"  said  Gon- 
zalo, stopping  his  horse,  "  because  it  is  retired  and 
no  one  may  see  or  hear  us.  It  is  unnecessary  to 
enter  into   explanations;  you  know  how  gravely 


JOSE    LÜPEZ-PORTILLO    Y    ROJAS.  327 

you  have  offended  me,  and  in  what  way.  That  is 
sufficient.  Now  I  desire  that  you  shall  give  me 
satisfaction  with  arms  in  hand." 

"  Although  I  am  not  valiant,  I  have  some  dig- 
nity and  never  will  I  yield  before  an  enemy  who 
challenges  me,"  answered  Luis,  tranquilly;  "  but  I 
have  one  remark  to  make  to  you,  which  is,  that 
my  conscience  does  not  reproach  me  with  having 
done  anything  to  offend  you,'" 

"  Yes,  I  was  expecting  that  you  would  deny 
responsibility  for  your  acts.  Anything  else  was  im- 
possible." 

"  Moderate  your  words.  Do  not  let  us  pass  to 
a  serious  occasion  without  some  rational  cause." 

"  Pretext,"  cried  Gonzalo;  "you  do  not  desire 
to  fight.  You  are  a  coward."  Saying  this  he 
placed  his  hand  upon  his  pistol  for  a  moment. 
Luis  was  livid  and  acted  as  if  he  would  follow 
his  example;  but  he  stopped  and  left  his  arm  in 
place,  recalling  his  promise  to  Ramona  at  the  ball. 

"  One  moment,"  he  said,  "  only  one  moment;  if 
you  are  a  man  and  not  a  brute,  as  you  seem  to  be, 
you  must  first  hear  me.  By  my  mother's  honor,  I 
assure  you  that  I  am  disposed  to  fight;  but  not 
before  we  understand  each  other.  What  is  the 
matter?  " 

"  You  love  Ramona.     Deny  that  if  you  can." 

"  God  save  me  from  committing  such  a  vile  act! 
It  is  tnie." 

"  You  have  courted  her." 


328  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

"  That  is  true." 

"  You  danced  with  her  the  night  of  the  fiesta." 

"  That  also  is  true." 

"  You  made  a  declaration  of  love  to  her." 

"  I  cannot  deny  that." 

"  You  are  a  shameless  being,  because  you  knew 
she  was  my  sweetheart  and  that  we  were  engaged 
to  be  married." 

"  That  is  not  true." 

Gonzalo  threw  upon  Luis  a  glance  of  infinite 
contempt  on  hearing  these  words. 

"  You  are  a  wretch,"  he  cried,  "  and  it  is  neces- 
sary that  I  punish  you.     Defend  yourself." 

"Assassinate  me  if  you  wish;  I  will  not  draw 
my  pistol  until  you  have  heard  me.  Come,  dis- 
patch me;  here  you  have  me,"  and  he  exposed  his 
breast  to  his  challenger. 

"  There  is  nothing  to  do  but  hear  you  in  order 
to  quit  you  of  every  excuse  for  your  cowardice. 
Speak,  and  hurry,  for  I  am  impatient  to  punish 
you." 

"  I  call  God  to  witness  that  I  believed  your  love 
relations  with  Ramona  were  broken.  Don  Mig- 
uel had  told  my  father  that  with  absolute  certainty. 
Every  one  in  Citala  asserted  the  same.  You  did 
not  come  to  town,  and  as  your  father  and  Don 
Miguel  were  quarreling  it  seemed  to  me  probable 
and  I  believed  it.  For  this  reason  I  made  love  to 
Ramona.  Had  it  not  been  for  this  I  would  have 
remained  silent,  as  I  have  been  silent  for  so  many 


JOSE    LOPEZ-PORTILLO   Y   ROJAS.  329 

years,  for  my  love  to  her  ¡s  nothing  new.  I  have 
always  had  it.  Ramona  informed  me  of  my  error, 
and  accused  me  of  perversity  and  treason,  as  you 
have  just  done.  She  herself  can  tell  you  how 
astonished  I  was  when  I  learned  that  it  was  not 
true  that  all  was  ended  between  you  and  that  you 
still  loved  each  other.  It  caused  me  infinite  grief. 
Now,"  pursued  the  youth,  "  that  you  have  heard 
me,  I  have  done,  and  am  at  your  orders." 


The  caravan  for  some  leagues  journeyed  silently, 
but  seeing  that  the  storm  approached,  the  sergeant 
neared  himself  to  one  of  the  soldiers  and  said  to 
him  in  a  low  voice : 

"  The  storm  is  coming;  here  is  a  good  place." 

"  Yes,  we  have  already  gone  six  leagues  and 
there  has  not  been  one  person  on  the  road." 

"  Well,  then,  let  us  at  once  to  what  we  have 
to  do;  then  let  us  get  back  to  the  pueblo." 

"  That  is  what  I  say,"  responded  the  soldier. 

"  Go  on  then,  you  already  know  what  you  have 
to  do;  see  if  you  can  do  it.  I  pretend  not  to  look; 
I  will  fall  behind." 

"  I  go  then  to  see  what  happens." 

The  soldier  drew  near  to  Roque. 

"  What  cheer,  friend?     How  goes  it?  " 

"  Diabolically,  friend.  How  do  you  expect  it 
goes  with  me  with  these  cords?  "  replied  the  pris- 
oner. 


330  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

"  Yes,  it  must  go  very  unpleasantly.  Why  don't 
you  smoke  a  cigarette?" 

"  Friend,  impossible.  Don't  you  see  that  I  go 
tied?" 

"  'Tis  true,  I  see  it  with  pity.  Now  you  will  see 
what  we  will  do.  At  last  the  sergeant  has  fallen 
behind  and  will  not  see  us.  I'm  going  to  untie 
you  to  give  you  a  little  rest." 

"  But  will  not  the  sergeant  see  it?  Thank  you 
much;  but  will  he  not  see?  " 

"  Have  no  concern;  anyway  it  is  very  dark." 

And  the  soldier  leaned  over  and  untied  the  knot 
which  held  Roque's  hands. 

"  May  God  reward  you,  friend,"  said  he, 
stretching  his  arms  In  front  of  him;  "  I  was  very 
tired.  But  tell  me,  why  are  your  hands  so  cold? 
Are  you  chilled?  " 

"  Nothing  is  the  matter  with  me.  The  air  is 
damp.  But,  take  a  cigarette.  Here  is  the  light  " 
—  and  he  reined  up. 

The  unsuspecting  Roque  rolled  the  cigarette  and 
lighted  it  by  that  which  the  soldier  was  smoking. 
They  then  went  on,  talking.  After  talking  for  a 
little  time  of  indifferent  matters  the  gendarme  said: 

"  Man,  friend,  I  sympathize  with  you  and  it 
pains  me  that  you  are  going  to  jail." 

"  There  Is  no  alternative,  friend !  Some  day  I 
will  be  out.     Anyway  the  jail  does  not  eat  people." 

"  Good;  but  it  is  always  atrocious  to  be  a  pris- 
oner, and  God  knows  for  how  long.     Why  not 


JOSE    LOPEZ-PORTILLO    Y    ROJAS.  33 1 

escape.  I  will  dissemble  and  you  will  run.  I  will 
fire  into  the  air  and  you  race  along  into  the  country 
and  no  one  can  find  you." 

"  I  am  afraid  they  will  shoot  me." 

"  Don't  be  afraid;  I  will  help  you." 

The  unfortunate  man  fell  into  the  snare. 

"  Do  you  say  it  seriously?     Are  you  not  fool- 

ing?" 

"  I  advise  you  in  earnest.  All  you  need  is 
courage." 

"  But  you  tell  me  when." 

"  Right  now  —  race  along  before  the  sergeant 
comes." 

Roque  gave  rein  to  his  horse  and  urged  it  with 
quick  strokes  of  his  heels  against  its  flanks,  but  he 
hardly  succeeded  in  making  it  take  a  slow  and  mea- 
sured gallop.  He  had  gone  but  a  few  steps  when 
a  report  sounded  just  behind  him  and  a  bullet 
passed,  grazing  the  brim  of  his  sombrero. 

"  Zounds,"  he  murmured,  "  what  a  scare  this 
man  has  aimed  to  give  me." 

And  instinctively  he  tried  to  place  himself  in  the 
field  at  one  side  of  the  road  to  hide  himself  in  the 
brambles.  But  there  was  no  time  for  anything. 
For  all  his  urging  the  horse  would  not  do  better 
than  his  little  gallop.  He  heard  the  nearing  band 
of  horses  and  various  shots  sounded.  Then  he 
understood  that  he  had  fallen  into  a  trap  and  that 
he  was  about  to  lose  his  life  through  it.  Impelled 
by  the  instinct  of  self-preservation,  he  tried  to  dis- 


332  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

mount  to  seek  shelter;  but  it  was  too  late.     The 
gendarmes  were  upon  him,  firing  with  their  rifles. 

"  Jesus  help  me!  Mother  receive  my  spirit!  " 
he  said  in  thought,  and  fell  penetrated  by  the  bul- 
lets. Two  had  entered  at  the  shoulders  and 
emerged  at  the  chest,  and  the  third  entered  at  the 
neck  and  destroyed  the  skull. 


What  was  it  which  the  terrified  Diaz  then  saw? 
Upon  a  plank,  borne  by  four  peasants,  tied  down 
with  coarse  cords,  was  a  corpse,  rigid  and  yellow. 
The  miserable  clothing  which  covered  it,  coarse 
cotton  drawers  and  shirt,  was  soaked  with  blood, 
principally  upon  the  breast,  where  the  abundant 
and  coagulated  flow  had  darkened  and  become 
almost  black.  Above  the  forehead,  in  the  black 
harsh  hair,  matted  and  stiffened  with  blood,  were 
visible  clots  of  red,  mingled  with  whitish  bits  of 
brain.  The  livid  face,  turned  toward  heaven,  bore 
an  expression  of  anguish  which  was  heart-rending; 
the  eyes  half  opened  and  glazed  fascinated  by  their 
glance;  and  the  opened  mouth,  dark  and  full  of 
earth,  seemed  to  exhale  inaudible  groans  and  com- 
plaints. 

The  gendarmes  surrounded  the  body  and  the 
curious  crowd  followed  it.  In  the  midst  of  the 
group  a  woman  walked,  weeping  and  uttering  cries 
of  grief.  She  carried  a  babe  at  her  breast  —  bear- 
ing it  with  her  left  arm,  and  as  well  as  she  could  led 


JOSE    LOPEZ-PORTILLO    Y    ROJAS.  333 

with  her  right  another  boy  about  four  years  old, 
barefoot  and  tattered. 

"Roque!  my  Roque!  my  husband,"  cried  the 
miserable  woman.  "  They  have  Icilled  my  hus- 
band! They  have  killed  him!  Children!  My 
little  ones !  Poor  little  ones  !  They  are  orphans ! 
What  shall  I  do  ?  What  shall  I  do  ?  What  shall 
Ido?     Ay!     Ay!     Ay!" 

In  passing  close  to  Don  Miguel  she  saw  him  and 
said  to  him,  sobbing: 

"  Señor  Don  Miguel,  do  you  see?  They  have 
killed  my  husband !  That  is  what  is  there  on  the 
board!  What  shall  I  do  Señor  Don  Miguel? 
What  shall  Ido?     Ay!     Ay!     Ay!" 


334 


MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 


MANUEL  SANCHES  MARMOL. 


Manuel  Sánches  Mármol  was  born  In  the  State 
of  Tabasco.  He  displayed  a  literary  tendency 
very  early,  and,  while  still  a  student,  collaborated 
in  such  literary  reviews  as  La  Guirnalda  (The  Gar- 
land), El  Album  Yucateco  (The  Yucatecan  Al- 
bum), and  El  Repertorio  pintoresco  (The  Pictur- 
esque Repertoire).  His  first  essays  in  the  field  of 
fiction  were  El  Misionero  de  la  Cruz  (The  Mis- 
sionary of  the  Cross),  and  La  Venganza  de  una 
injuria  (The  Revenge  of  an  Injury). 


MANUEL    SANCHES    MARMOL.  335 

At  the  time  of  the  French  Intervention,  he 
joined  the  Republican  forces.  He  acted  as  Secre- 
tary of  State  of  Tabasco,  and  aroused  the  patriot- 
ism of  his  fellows  by  his  writings.  He  founded 
El  Águila  Azteca  (The  Aztec  Eagle),  a  paper 
devoted  entirely  to  the  national  cause.  During 
this  period  of  disturbance  he  was  a  Deputy  to  the 
State  Legislature,  Secretary  of  Colonel  Gregorio 
Méndez,  and  his  Auditor  of  War.  The  course  of 
local  events  during  this  stormy  period  was  largely 
directed  by  him.      (See  p.  148.) 

After  the  war  had  passed,  Manuel  Sánches  Már- 
mol continued  his  activity  both  in  politics  and  let- 
ters. He  has  been  Magistrate  of  the  Supreme 
Court  of  the  State  of  Tabasco,  sevcil  times  mem- 
ber of  the  Federal  Congress,  Director  and  Foun- 
der of  the  Instituto  Juarez  of  Tabasco.  He  has 
constantly  contributed  to  those  periodicals  which 
represent  the  most  pronounced  liberal  ideas  —  as 
El  Siglo  XIX  (The  Nineteenth  Century),  La 
Sombra  de  Guerrero  (The  Shade  of  Guerrero),  El 
Radical  and  El  Federalista.  He  represented 
Mexico  in  the  second  Pan-American  Congress, 
which  met  in  the  City  of  Mexico  in  1902.  He  is 
now  Professor  of  History  in  the  Escuela  Nacional 
Preparatoria  (National  Preparatory  School). 

Besides  his  early  essays  in  fiction,  he  has  written 
the  following  novels  —  Pocahnutas,  Juanita  Sonsa, 
and  Antón  Pérez   (titles  untranslatable,  as  being 


336  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

personal  names) .     He  has  now  in  press  Piedad 
(Mercy),  and  is  preparing  three  others. 

Our  selections  are  taken  from  Antón  Pérez,  a 
novel  dealing  with  the  French  Intervention  in  Ta- 
basco. Antón  Pérez  was  the  son  of  poor  but  de- 
cent parents,  but  was  pardo  {"  dark  ") ,  a  fact  cer- 
tain to  be  to  his  disadvantage,  no  matter  what  abil- 
ities he  might  possess.  Having  gone  through  the 
public  school  of  the  village,  he  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  the  priests,  who  had  newly  come  to  his 
town,  the  villa  of  Cunduacán.  Their  school  was 
below  Anton's  needs  but  the  good  priests  taught 
him  privately  to  the  extent  of  their  ability.  He 
was  their  trusted  protege  and  they  encouraged  him 
to  high  hope  of  a  brilliant  future.  In  the  pa- 
rochial school  for  girls  was  Rosalba  del  Riego. 
She  was  ugly  and  unattractive  but  of  good  family 
and  aristocratic  connection.  She  adored  the  big 
boy,  handsome  as  a  picture,  who  studied  with  the 
priests  and  aided  them  in  all  ways,  occupying  quite 
a  lofty  place  in  their  little  world,  but  her  admira- 
tion merely  irritated  him,  as  it  called  down  upon 
him  the  laughter  of  the  little  school  boys.  When 
Antón  had  learned  all  that  his  patrons  could  teach 
him  they  tried  to  secure  for  him  a  scholarship  at 
the  Seminario,  at  JMerida;  the  effort  appeared  like- 
ly to  be  successful,  but  it  failed;  —  a  youth  with 
more  powerful  influence  behind  him  securing  the 
appointment.  The  blow  was  keenly  felt  by  the 
poor  and  ambitious  boy.     Soon  after,  his  father 


MANUEL   SÁNCHES   MÁRMOL.  337 

died,  the  old  priests  left  for  new  fields,  and  two 
old  aunts  who  have  been  to  him  in  place  of  mother 
depended  upon  him  for  support.  The  brilliant 
dreams  of  a  career  faded;  life's  realities  fell  upon 
the  boy.  He  was  equal,  however,  to  the  demands 
and  earned  enough  for  their  modest  needs.  He 
was  busy,  useful,  respected,  and  content.  He  was 
lieutenant  of  the  local  guard  and  had  some  notions 
of  military  drill  and  practice.  Meantime  his  little 
admirer,  Rosalba,  completed  her  education  outside 
the  State,  and,  at  last,  returned  transformed. 
Beautiful  as  a  dream,  brilliant,  educated,  she  was 
immediately  the  centre  of  attraction  in  the  town. 
Antón  was  madly  in  love  with  her.  But  her  child- 
ish admiration  had  given  place  to  —  at  least,  ap- 
parent—  aversion.  She  insulted  him  openly  on 
account  of  his  inferior  position.  Rosalba  had  a 
maiden  aunt,  Doña  Socorro  Castrejón.  Just  as 
Anton's  love  for  Rosalba  arose,  Doña  Socorro  saw 
the  boy,  appreciated  his  handsome  face  and  fine 
bearing,  and  was  smitten  with  an  infatuation, 
which  had  only  a  passionate  and  unworthy  basis. 
She  was  a  scheming  and  intriguing  woman  but  not 
without  charms  and  brilliancy.  When  events  were 
in  this  condition  the  French  Intervention  took 
place.  The  foreign  forces  appeared  in  Tabasco; 
the  governor.  Dueñas,  traitorously  yielded  the  cap- 
ital; later,  pretending  to  arrange  for  local  defense, 
he  scattered  the  forces,  so  that  they  could  present 
no  obstacle   to  the   invader.     One   after   another 


338  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

these  separated  bodies  of  the  national  guard  suf- 
fered defection.  The  Doña  Socorro  was  an  ar- 
dent imperialist.  Antón,  at  Cunduacán,  was  lieu- 
tenant of  the  yet  loyal  forces,  under  Colonel  Mén- 
dez. One  day,  while  Colonel  Méndez  and  his 
brother,  Captain  Méndez,  were  breakfasting  with 
a  friend  Doña  Socorro  influenced  Antón  to  "  pro- 
nounce," with  his  soldiers,  in  favor  of  the  Empire. 
His  deed  was  represented.  In  brilliant  colors  to  the 
young  commander  of  the  Imperial  forces,  Arévalo, 
and  Antón  was  rewarded.  He  was  the  confiden- 
tial friend  and  trusted  adviser  of  Arévalo,  and,  for 
a  time,  all  their  plans  prospered.  But  Gregorio 
Méndez  and  Sánchez  Magellanes  gathered  a  hand- 
ful of  loyal  men  and  made  a  stand.  A  battle  was 
fought,  the  Invading  forces  looking  for  an  easy 
victory;  they  met  with  dire  defeat.  Antón  Pérez 
was  mortally  wounded.  The  death  of  the  youth, 
who  had  sacrificed  loyalty,  patriotism,  and  honor, 
to  a  fooHsh  love,  Is  depicted  in  dreadful  detail. 

EXTRACTS  FROM  ANTON  PEREZ. 

Doña  Socorro  was  somewhat  irritated,  that  the 
compliment  for  which  she  sought  was  not  given, 
and  that  only  her  niece  was  praised.  She  con- 
trolled herself,  however,  merely  saying  inwardly 
— "  what  a  fool  the  boy  is !  he  must  be  waked  up." 
Then  she  said  aloud : 

"  Well,  since  you  do  not  care  to  stay,  feel  that 


MANUEL    sÁnCIIES    mXrMOL.  339 

I  am  interested  in  your  welfare.  I  should  like  to 
see  you  at  my  house,  tomorrow." 

"  I  will  be  there,  madam,"  Antón  answered  re- 
spectfully. And  slipping,  timidly,  through  the 
crowd  of  guests,  directing  a  furtive  glance  at  Ro- 
salba,  he  went  to  his  work  at  the  humble  desk  in 
Ajágan's  shop. 

But  he  could  not  keep  track  of  the  figures;  sums 
and  differences  came  out  badly;  everything  was 
topsy-turvy;  seven  times  six  was  forty-eight  and 
five  would  not  contain  three.  His  head  was  in  a 
whirl.     That  night  he  could  not  sleep. 

In  the  morning,  he  performed  his  usual  duties 
and  at  midday,  his  heart  high  with  vague,  happy 
hopes,  he  went  to  his  appointment  with  Doña  So- 
corro. 

He  was  expected.  The  lady  received  him  with 
expressive  signs  of  affection,  and  seating  him,  said: 

*'  I  have  invited  you  here  for  your  own  good. 
You  are  poor;  I  wish  to  aid  you.  Do  not  be 
ashamed ;  speak  to  me  frankly.  What  are  your 
resources  for  living?     Go  into  full  particulars." 

Antón  lowered  his  eyes  and  turned  his  hat 
around  and  around  in  his  hands,  until  the  lady 
again  encouraged  him: 

"  Go  on  ;  don't  be  brief.      Speak  !  boy." 

"  Well  then,  lady,"  answered  the  young  man, 
hesitatingly,  "  I  can't  say  that  it  is  so  bad;  I  earn 
my  twenty-five  pesos  a  month." 

"And  from  whom?  " 


340  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

"  From  what  persons,  you  mean  " —  continued 
Antón,  with  somewhat  greater  frankness, — "  why 
then,  Don  Ascencio  Ajagan  gives  me  ten  pesos  be- 
cause, every  night,  I  go  there  for  a  Httle  while  to 
make  up  his  accounts  and  to  write  a  letter  or  two. 
Master  Collado  pays  me  five  pesos  for  the  class  in 
arithmetic,  which  I  teach  in  the  public  school;  an- 
other five,  the  receiver  of  taxes,  who  scarcely  knows 
how  to  sign  his  name,  pays  me  for  balancing  his 
accounts  at  the  end  of  the  month;  and  the  other 
five  the  town  treasurer  gives  me  for  doing  the 
same." 

"That  is  not  bad;  but  Collado  and  the  collec- 
tor pay  you  a  miserable  price." 

"  The  latter,  perhaps,  yes;  but  the  other,  no  — 
he  receives  a  salary  of  barely  twenty-five.  As 
much  as  I  earn." 

"  Ah,  well !  bid  farewell  to  Master  Collado  and 
Ajagan,  and  the  collector  and  the  town  treasurer, 
and  enter  my  employ.  La  Ermita  is  wretchedly 
cared  for;  mayorsdomos  succeed  one  another  and 
all  rob  me.  You  shall  go  to  La  Ermita  as  man- 
ager, with  house  and  table,  horses  for  your  use, 
servants  to  do  your  bidding  —  that  is  to  say,  as 
master,  because  you  will  command  there;  the  twen- 
ty-five pesos  per  month,  which  you  now  earn  by 
your  varied  labors,  will  continue  to  be  paid  you  and 
in  addition  fifteen  per  cent  of  the  annual  income  of 
the  place.     I  am  making  you  not  a  bad  offer!  "  * 

*  Moco   de  pavo;  literally,   a   turkey's   crest. 


MANUEL    SANCHES    MARMOL.  34 1 

"No,  indeed,  lady!  I  appreciate  that  it  is 
more  than  liberal;  but,  I  cannot  accept  it." 

"  Why  not?  "  asked  Doña  Socorro,  thoroughly 
vexed. 

"  Because,  I  must  not  abandon  my  good  aunts." 

"  You  need  not  do  so.  La  Ennila  is  only  three 
leagues  from  here;  a  mere  nothing.  You  can 
come  here  in  the  evenings,  Saturdays,  to  spend  Sun- 
days, and  Mondays  you  are  at  your  duties  again. 
Finally,  in  case  they  are  not  satisfied,  take  them  out 
to  the  place." 

"  They  were  not  made  for  country  life;  still,  for 
my  good,  they  would  make  the  sacrifice.  But 
there  is  another  —  an  insuperable  —  difficulty." 

"What?" 

"  I  do  not  understand  rural  affairs  and  one  who 
controls  should  know  what  he  commands.  I 
would  not  know  where  to  begin;  there  would  be 
neither  head  nor  foot,  and  you  would  gain  noth- 
ing, with  your  unhappy  administrator." 

"  What  I  gain  or  do  not  gain,  does  not  concern 
you;  it  is  not  your  affair.  If  you  do  not  know 
rural  affairs,  I  will  instruct  you,  and,  as  you  are  not 
stupid,  you  will  be,  within  two  months,  more  dex- 
terous than  San  Ysidro*  himself.  When  shall  we 
begin,  come  now?  " 

"  But,  lady,  I  am  sorry;  T  believe  I  will  not  go. 
Agriculture  does  not  attract  me.  The  few  studies 
I  have  made  do  not  tend  thither." 

*  The    patron    of    agricultural    labor. 


342  MODI^RN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

"  Ah !  You  aim  at  a  literary  career,  to  some 
public  office!  "  replied  Doña  Socorro,  sneeringly. 

"  Do  not  make  sport  of  me,  lady;  I  know  right 
well,  that  I  shall  never  fill  the  position  of  a  general 
or  a  magistrate.  You  asked  me  to  be  frank,  and  I 
frankly  admit  that  I  have  my  aspirations." 

"  Very  good  —  what  difficulty  is  that.  Better 
and  better.  Go  and  fill  this  position,  save  money, 
put  yourself  in  contact  with  people  of  consequence, 
and  from  La  Ermita,  you  may  go  to  be  Regidor,  or 
something  higher.  You  know  well  that  Alcaldes, 
and  even  Jefes  Politicos,  come  from  the  country- 
places.     What  hinders?  " 

"  Really,  lady,  speaking  plainly,  the  position 
does  not  attract  me  in  the  least." 

"  H'm !  —  You  are  not  telling  me  the  truth;  at 
least,  you  are  concealing  something  from  me  — 
something  —  what  is  the  real  cause  of  your  re- 
fusal?" 

Antón  maintained  silence :  the  lady  urged  him. 

"  Why  are  you  not  frank  with  me  —  who  care 
so  much  for  you  ?  " 

"  It  is  " —  he  stammered  — "  the  truth  is  that 
just  now,  less  than  ever,  do  I  care  to  leave  the 
town." 

"  Come,  come,  tell  it  all  " —  insisted  the  lady, 
piqued  with  lively  curiosity  — "  who  is  your  sweet- 
heart?" 

"Sweetheart?  —  No;    indeed    I    would    rather 


MANUEL    SANCIIES    MARMOL.  343 

"Yes,  indeed;  who?" 

"I   say   she    is   not   my   sweetheart  —  Perhaps 


"  Finish,  man  —  perhaps  what?  " 

"  She  may  come  to  be " 

"  And,  who  is  the  girl?     Do  I  know  her?  " 

"  Very  well." 

While  Antón  was  silent.  Doña  Socorro  thought 
over  the  riddle,  and,  after  some  minutes,  declared: 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know,  child;  give  me  a  clew." 

"  She  is  your  relativ^e." 

The  lady  passed  over  in  her  thought,  to  whom 
Antón  could  allude,  and  could  not  imagine  which 
one  of  her  relatives,  the  poor  and  obscure  youth 
presumed  to  win.  Suddenly,  like  a  flash,  came  the 
remembrance  of  the  words,  which  he  had  pro- 
nounced when  she  invited  him  to  remain  at  the 
party;  but  it  was  a  thing  so  unheard  of,  so  un- 
thinkable, that  she  dared  not  mention  the  name, 
but  desired  to  assure  herself,  indirectly,  that  she 
was  not  on  a  false  trail. 

*'  Was  she  at  the  party  last  night?  "  she  asked. 

Antón  replied  by  a  nod  of  his  head.  The  lady 
was  confounded;  her  face  lengthened,  her  eyes 
rounded,  her  mouth  opened,  and  she  exclaimed : 

"  Rosalba !  —  well,  but,  you  are  a  fool !  " 

Antón  was  stupefied;  it  seemed  as  if  the  ground 
sank  under  him  and  he  was  raised  into  the  air. 
Why,  was  he  a  fool? 

Doña  Socorro  saw  the  boy's  emotion  and  some- 


344  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

thing  like  pity  stirred  within  her.  Certain  that, 
later,  this  senseless  delirium  would  vanish,  she  said 
to  him: 

"  Poor  child !  You  will  get  over  it.  When 
you  decide  to  accept  my  offer,  you  know  that  I  am 
here.  Think  well  over  it.  I  wish  only  your  own 
good." 

Antón,  overwhelmed,  could  scarcely  murmur  a 
"  thank  you,  madam,"  rose  half  tremblingly  and 
walked  away,  with  bowed  head. 

Doña  Socorro  remained  absorbed  in  reflection. 
"To  think  of  it  —  but  the  child  aims  high  —  to 
aspire  to  Rosalba  —  he  is  handsome  —  who  would 
have  thought  it  —  decidedly,  he  Is  a  fool." 


Doña  Socorro,  attentive  to  what  was  passing  in 
the  Republican  ranks,  prompt  to  aid  the  triumph  of 
her  cause,  had  displayed  all  the  resources  of  her 
astuteness  to  complete  the  demoralization  of  the 
remnants  of  the  brigade  and  to  foment  desertion. 
Her  efforts  were  meeting  abundant  success  and  In 
seeing  the  resources  of  war  which  had  been 
grouped  around  Dueñas,  completely  disorganized, 
she  was  greatly  rejoiced.  Not  content,  however, 
with  such  signal  successes,  when  she  saw  the  com- 
panies of  the  coast  guard, —  the  most  loyal  to  the 
Republic  —  evacuate  the  villa,  to  the  loyalty  of 
which  the  Méndez  brothers  entrusted  themselves 
for  some  hours,  she  had  an  Inspiration,  truly  worthy 


MANUEL   SANCHES   MARMOL.  345 

of  her  brain.  She  conceived  the  idea  of  capturing 
the  two  officers,  to  offer  to  Arévalo,  as  a  prized 
trophy.  How  to  realize  it?  It  was  not  beyond 
her  power  —  capable  as  she  was,  of  all  in  the  do- 
main of  evil. 

There  was  Antón  Pérez ;  Rosalba  would  be  the 
incentive. 

"  Paulina !  Paulina !  "  she  called,  and  a  serv- 
ant appeared. 

"  Run,  at  once,  to  the  barracks;  ask  for  Lieuten- 
ant Pérez,  and  urge  him,  from  me,  to  come  here 
immediately." 

Pauline  departed,  encountered  Antón,  and  gave 
the  message;  the  lieutenant  shrugged  his  shoulders 
and  replied,  with  evident  dislike: 

"  I  will  come  presently :  I  am  busy,  now." 

No  more  than  five  minutes  had  elapsed,  when 
the  servant  returned  with  new  and  more  urgent 
summons  to  Antón,  who  displayed  no  more  interest 
than  before,  responding  abruptly: 

"  I  will  come." 

Doiia  Socorro  was  dying  with  impatience;  the 
moments  seemed  like  hours  to  her  and  she  paced 
restlessly  to  and  from  the  door  anxious  for  Anton's 
coming;  but,  he  came  not. 

Tired  of  waiting,  she  resolutely  entered  her 
room,  threw  a  rebozo  over  her  shoulders,  and  went 
directly  to  the  door  of  the  barracks.  Without  her 
having  to  announce  herself,  a  soldier  ran  to  give 
notice  to  the  lieutenant  of  the  presence  of  the  lady; 


346  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

this  time,'  unable  to  escape,  he  advanced  to  the  en- 
counter. 

Doña  Socorro,  plainly  desirous  of  losing  no 
time,  threw  aside  her  natural  pride,  and  without  a 
word  of  reproach  to  Antón,  said,  with  affected  sur- 
prise: 

"But,  what  are  you  doing!  child?  Now  is 
your  time." 

"  I  do  not  understand,  madam." 

"  Then  you  are  not  in  this  world.  If  you  let 
this  chance  escape,  farewell  to  your  hopes." 

"  But,  I  do  not  understand,  madam." 

*'  Ah !  come  now !  then  you  no  longer  think  of 
Rosalba " 

"As  God  is  my  witness,  madam;  with  greater 
desperation,  now,  than  ever." 

"  Then,  today  is  when  you  ought  not  to  despair; 
today  your  hopes  are  realized.  Your  fate  is  in 
your  own  hands." 

"In  my  hands?"  exclaimed  the  astonished 
youth. 

"  In  your  own  hands,  boy;  Rosalba  will  be 
yours." 

"  Where  is  she?  "  he  asked  yet  more  surprised. 

"  Here  in  your  barracks." 

Antón  believed  Doña  Socorro  was  trifling  with 
him,  but  she,  without  giving  time  for  further  sur- 
prises, hastened  to  explain  herself. 

"  You  know  that  our  party,  the  Imperialist,  is 
composed  of  the  best  people  of  the  country.     If 


MANUEL   SANCHES   MARMOL.  347 

you  join  it,  you  will  come  Into  contact  .with  the 
most  elevated  classes.  Rosalba  does  not  respond 
to  your  love  for  sheer  pride,  not  because  she  is  not 
interested  in  you,  not  because  she  does  not  love  you 
—  it  is  /,  who  tell  this  to  you, — when  she  sees  that 
you  are  not  the  insignificant  '  pardo '  of  the  vil- 
lage but  a  personage  of  consequence,  or  even  of  im- 
portance, she  will  herself  make  the  advances  and 
will  surrender  herself  to  you.  I  tell  you  true. 
Come  —  now  or  never!  Place  yourself  in  the 
first  line,  become  the  chief  authority  in  the  town, 
and  who  knows  what  more. — ;  Your  happiness  de- 
pends upon  yourself;  it  is  in  your  own  hands. 
Enter  your  barracks,  '  pronounce  '  yourself  and 
your  soldiers  for  the  Empire,  and  that  the  blow 
may  be  decisive,  that  you  may  at  a  single  bound 
reach  the  greatest  height,  go  and  seize  the  two 
Méndez  brothers,  who  are  breakfasting  at  the 
house  of  Sánchez,  make  them  prisoners,  and  you 
will  gain  the  full  favor  and  protection  of  General 
Arévola.     Go  !  do  not  hesitate." 

Doiia  Socorro  had  launched  this  speech  at  one 
breath,  accompanying  her  words  with  gestures  and 
posturings  which  the  most  consummate  elocution- 
ist might  envy. 

Poor  Antón  felt  his  head  whirl;  he  was  taken 
by  surprise  and  only  ventured  this  one  objection: 

"  Pronounce  myself,  yes;  but  capture  my  old 
chief,  who  has  loved  me  well,  madam,  that  is  too 
much!      I  have  not  the  bravado  for  such  a  thing." 


348  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

*'  But  what  harm  are  you  going  to  do  to  him, 
innocent  ?  Do  you  think  he  runs  any  danger  with 
Arévalo?" 

"  Who  can  say  that  he  does  not?  " 

"  No  one;  no  one.  Perhaps  he  will  catch  them 
in  arms  on  the  field?  No;  on  the  contrary,  they 
will  become  great  friends,  and  the  two  Méndez  will 
join  our  party  also.  Above  all,  it  is  to  your  in- 
terest to  raise  yourself  as  nearly  to  Rosalba's  level 
as  possible,  to  dazzle  her " 

"  Very  well,  madam,"  murmured  Antón,  with 
a  trembling  voice. 

Without  further  hesitation,  he  entered  the  bar- 
racks, spoke  with  the  two  sergeants  of  the  dwindled 
company,  bade  them  form  it,  rapidly  exchanged 
words  with  his  men,  and,  then,  drawing  his  sword 
and  facing  the  files,  cried  out  —  his  voice  still 
trembling : 

"Boys!  viva  el  Imperio!"  (May  the  Empire 
live). 

"  Viva !  "  (may  it  live)  —  one  soldier  answered. 

"  Sergeant  Beltran,"  said  Antón,  "  fifteen  men 
with  you  to  guard  the  barracks;  twenty-five,  with 
Sergeant  Federico,  may  follow  me." 

The  order  was  carried  out  to  the  letter,  and  at 
the  head  of  his  twenty-five  men,  Antón  marched  to 
the  house,  where  the  two  Méndez  brothers  were 
gaily  breakfasting. 

At  the  moment  when  the  colonel  exclaimed, 
"  Impossible,"  denying  Don  Vencho's  report,  there 


MANUEL    SANCHES    MARMOL.  349 

was  heard,  on  the  walk,  in  front,  the  sound  of  guns, 
on  faUing  to  rest. 

"  Sergeant  Federico !  "  ordered  Antón,  "ad- 
vance and  order  Colonel  Méndez  and  the  officers 
who  accompany  him  to  yield  themselves  prisoners." 

There  was  no  necessity  for  the  sergeant  to  enter, 
since  Captain  Méndez  rushed  out  at  once,  and 
standing,  from  the  opposite  sidewalk,  with  hair 
bristling  and  eyes  flashing,  as  if  he  were  the  per- 
sonification of  indignation,  burst  forth  in  these 
cries,  which  issued  in  a  torrent  from  his  frothing 
lips: 

"  Bravo  1  Lieutenant  Pérez  I  Thus  you  fulfil 
the  oath  of  fealty,  which  you  swore  to  your  flag ! 
thus  do  you  employ  the  arms  which  your  country 
placed  in  your  hands  for  her  defence!  Traitors! 
traitors  to  your  native  land!  What  do  you  seek 
here?  What  wish  you,  of  us?  Assassinate  us! 
We  shall  not  defend  ourselves.  Lieutenant  Pérez, 
complete  your  crime,  fulfil  your  part  as  assassins! 
Here,  am  I !  let  them  kill,"  and,  saying  this,  he 
stepped  forward  and  drawing  back  the  lapel  of  his 
coat,  bared  his  breast.  "What  delays  them? 
Traitors!     Assassins!" 

At  that  moment  a  soldier  among  those  who 
heard  the  violent  and  insulting  reproach  raised  his 
gun.  Antón  Pérez  saw  it  and  drawing  his  sword, 
threw  himself  upon  the  soldier,  crying: 


350  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

"  Lower  that  gun !  The  first  man  who  at- 
tempts to  aim,  I  will  run  him  through." 

Captain  Méndez  continued: 

"  I  prefer  death  to  the  ignominy  of  finding  my- 
self in  your  company.     Traitors  !     Assassins  !  " 

"  Assassins,  we  are  not,  my  captain,  that  you 
have  already  seen,"  replied  Antón. 

"  I  am  not  the  captain  of  bandit-traitors,  ex- 
Lieutenant  Pérez." 

"  We  are  not  traitors,"  returned  Pérez,  "  we  de- 
sire to  save  our  country  from  Yankee  usurpation." 

'*  To  save  it  indeed!  and  give  it  over  to  the  for- 
eigner! noble  patriots!  famous  Mexicans!"  con- 
tinued Méndez.  "  Would  that  I  had  no  eyes  to 
behold  you !  Would  that  I  were  a  lightning- 
stroke  to  destroy  you.  Cursed  race !  race  of  scor- 
pions, who  repay  our  country,  our  sacred  mother- 
land, by  stinging  her  to  the  heart.  One  last  word. 
Lieutenant  Pérez;  in  the  name  of  our  native  land, 
in  the  name  of  that  oath  of  fealty,  which  you  swore 
to  the  flag,  in  the  name  of  a  man's  sacred  duty,  I 
implore  you  to  fulfil  your  obligations  as  a  soldier, 
as  a  Mexican,  as  a  man.  Lay  down  those  arms 
which  you  are  converting  from  sacred  to  infamous. 
Lieutenant  Pérez;  worthy  fellows  of  Cunduacán, 
Fiva  la  República.'* 

No  one  responded. 


The  moon,  in  its  second  quarter,  shed  a  yellow- 
ing light  through  the  trees  and  impressed  upon  the 


MANUEL    SANCHES    MARMOL.  35  I 

night  an  infinite  sadness.  When  the  beams  of 
dawn  came,  that  funereal  light  paled,  until  com- 
pletely extinguished,  and  the  sky  became  tinted 
with  a  rosy  flush,  which  kindled  in  measure  as  the 
new  day  neared.  A  trembling  of  leaves  agitated 
the  branches  at  the  awakening  of  the  birds,  which 
after  shaking  themselves,  took  silently  to  flight. 
Suddenly  earth  and  trees  appeared  enveloped  in 
dense  fog,  as  if  a  night  of  whiteness  had  substi- 
tuted itself  for  that,  which  had  just  ended.  The 
fog,  thinned  little  by  little,  until  it  seemed  like 
heaps  of  spider  webs,  piled  one  on  another,  through 
the  elastic  meshes  of  which  was  seen  a  sun  of  pol- 
ished silver.  Suddenly  the  spider  webs  broke  into 
a  thousand  tatters,  falling  to  the  ground,  converted 
into  a  tenuous  rain,  and  the  day  shone  forth  in  full 
splendor.  The  trees  gleamed  in  their  beauteous 
verdure,  the  flowers  of  vines  and  the  morning- 
glories  opened  their  chalices,  sprinkled  with  dew 
drops,  to  the  glowing  and  incestuous  kisses  of  their 
father  and  lover,  the  regal  star  of  day.  Mean- 
time Antón  Pérez,  in  an  agony,  which  seemed 
endless,  lay  at  the  foot  of  the  oak-tree,  which,  in- 
different, spread  forth  its  broad  and  abundant 
leaves  to  the  solar  heat. 

In  fact,  Antón  Pérez,  braced  between  the  roots 
of  the  tree,  in  the  immovableness  of  death,  the  life 
concentrated  in  his  eyes,  participated  in  his  own  tor- 
ture, like  those  guilty  immortals,  whom  Alighieri's 
pitiless  fancy  created.     Bloodless,  annihilated,  yet 


352  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

he  felt  himself  living.  Who  ever  had  seen  the 
gleam  of  his  eyes,  would  have  known  that  his  con- 
science was  accusing  him.  What  implacable  moral 
law  had  he  broken,  that  his  punishment  should  be 
so  horribly  prolonged,  by  his  marvelous  vitality? 
Was  it  because  he  had  loved  madly?  that  he  had 
aspired  to  raise  himself  to  a  sphere  higher  than 
that,  in  which  he  had  been  born?  that  he  had  en- 
dured, perhaps  disgracefully,  the  scorn  and  the 
disdain  of  the  human  being  whom  he  had  wor- 
shiped? Why  had  he  not  deserved  Rosalba? 
Why  had  God  made  her  so  bewitching?  Where 
was  his  sin?  Perhaps  that  he  had  passed  from 
the  flag  of  the  Republic  to  the  Imperial  standards? 
And  was  he,  perchance,  the  only  one?  Were  not 
a  thousand  distinguished  Mexicans  aiding  and  de- 
fending the  new  cause,  shown  to  be  pleasing  to 
Heaven,  by  the  rapidity  with  which  it  had  spread 
and  gained  proselytes?  Did  not  God's  ministers 
suggest  it  in  the  confessional  and,  even,  preach  it  in 
the  pulpit?  Was  not  that  cause,  indeed,  to  be  the 
savior  of  Mexico? — Where  was  his  sin?  Thus, 
in  his  moments  of  lucidity,  the  unhappy  condemned 
being  thought,  and  then  fell  into  lethargies  from 
which  he  again,  presently,  aroused  himself.  How 
slow  and  tedious  the  passage  of  the  hours!  iVnd 
the  sun  continued  to  mount  at  its  accustomed  speed 
and,  now,  gained  its  greatest  height.  Piercing 
through  the  leafy  branches.  Its  rays  designed  odd 
patches  of  sunlight  on  the  ground  which  every 


MANUEL   SANGRES   MARMOL.  353 

breeze  complicated  into  fantastic  deformations. 
The  nymph  of  light  amused  herself  at  her  fancy, 
with  such  sports. 

At  one  moment,  Antón  raised  his  gaze,  and  be- 
fore him,  perched  upon  the  pointed  leaf  of  a  coco- 
yol,  found  that  he,  at  last,  had  a  companion  in  that 
loneliness;  it  was  a  buzzard,  which  looked  at  him 
fixedly,  moving  his  neck  regularly,  up  and  down, 
as  one  who  meditates.  The  presence  of  that  liv- 
ing being  caused  Antón  a  vague  sensation  of  com- 
fort; that,  even,  was  much,  at  the  end  of  so  long 
and  complete  abandonment,  to  see  in  his  last  mo- 
ments that  he  was  not  alone  in  the  world.  He 
then  fell  into  a  syncope, —  condition  which  now 
came  on  more  frequently  and  lasted,  each  time 
longer,  sign  that  his  agony  was  nearing  its  end. 
On  returning  to  himself,  he  mechanically  turned 
his  gaze  to  the  palm-tree  and  saw  that  now  there 
was  not  only  one,  but  three,  of  the  buzzards,  which 
with  the  same  nodding  movement  of  the  neck,  and 
with  no  less  attention,  looked  at  him.  A  sinister 
and  dreadful  thought  shot  through  his  sluggish 
brain;  those  birds  were  there,  in  expectation  ol  his 
death,  to  devour  him.  Then,  a  horror  of  death 
seized  him;  a  shudder  of  dread  passed  through  his 
nervTS,  and  he  longed  that  his  miserable  existence 
might  be  prolonged,  with  the  hope  that  some  hu- 
man being  might  draw  near  and  discover  him. 
The  nervous  disturbance,  which  that  idea  produced, 
provoked  a  new  unconsciousness.     On  recovery,  he 


354  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

could  see  that  not  three,  but  a  considerable  number 
of  vultures  had  settled  on  the  palm  and  on  the 
neighboring  trees.  He  believed  they  might  take 
him  for  already  dead,  and  to  let  them  see  that  he 
was  not,  he  attempted  to  raise  and  move  his  left 
arm,  which,  with  enormous  effort,  he  succeeded  in 
doing.  The  scavengers  seemed  to  understand 
their  error  since  they  looked  at  one  another,  ex- 
changing guttural  croakings.  But  night, —  last 
refuge  to  which  Antón  trusted  against  the  danger 
of  being  torn  to  pieces,  while  yet  alive, —  showed 
no  signs  of  approach.  It  was  now  his  duty  to  pre- 
serve the  little  remaining  life.  The  vultures,  on 
the  contrary,  ought  to  be  impatient  to  gorge  them- 
selves with  the  banquet  which  they  had  before 
them,  since  others  were  constantly  arriving,  hover- 
ing, and  settling,  on  the  neighboring  tree-tops, 
where  they  formed  moving  spots  of  black. 

One,  bolder  than  the  rest,  descended  from  the 
branch,  on  which  he  rested,  to  the  ground  and,  like 
an  explorer,  was  cautiously  approaching  Antón, 
who,  divining,  in  his  last  gleams  of  lucidity,  the 
purpose  of  the  bird,  renewed  the  effort,  which  he 
had  made  before,  and  continued  to  raise  and,  even, 
shake,  his  arm  and  to  bend  his  undamaged  leg,  at 
the  moments,  when  the  buzzard  stretched  out  his 
neck  to  give  the  first  peck.  The  carrion-eater 
drew  back  his  head  and  retreated  a  few  steps,  but 
did  not  take  to  flight.  Encouraged  by  this  his 
companions  descended,  one  by  one,  from  the  tree 


MANUEL    SANCHES    MARMOL.  355 

and  took  possession  of  the  space  around,  forming 
a  semi-circle  at  the  foot  of  the  oak-tree. 

Perhaps,  through  an  instinctive  respect  to  man's 
superiority,  felt  by  other  animals,  even  though 
seeing  him  helpless,  the  line  of  vultures  remained 
at  a  considerable  distance  from  Antón  and  limited 
themselves  to  contemplating  him,  nodding  and 
stretching  out  their  heads,  and  repeatedly  croak- 
ing. A  Hoffmanesque  fancy  would  have  seen,  in 
them,  a  group  of  zealots  in  prayer,  making  rever- 
ence. 

But  this  did  not  last  long.  One  of  the  vultures 
ventured  to  dash  at  the  head  of  Antón,  who  still 
had  enough  energy  to  guard  himself  against  the 
attack,  raising  his  arm  and  striking  the  bird  with 
his  fist,  so  that  it  returned  to  stand  on  the  ground 
again,  though  without  any  sign  of  fear.  The 
effort  Antón  had  made  was  so  great  that  he  fell 
into  a  new  stupor.  The  same  vulture  again  raised 
himself,  but  not  to  dash  directly  upon  the  dying 
man;  he  hovered  a  moment  over  his  head  and, 
then,  hurling  himself  upon  Anton's  face,  tore  out, 
at  a  single  clutch,  his  right  eye.  The  pain  was  so 
intense  that  the  victim  not  only  returned  to  con- 
sciousness but  gave  a  cry  of  agony,  which  echoed 
like  the  last  shriek  of  one  who  dies  exhausted  under 
torture.  Yet,  he  could,  by  an  instinctive  senti- 
ment of  preservation,  turn  his  head,  so  that  the  left 
eye  was  protected  by  the  tree  tnink.  Then  he  felt 
that  the  crowd  of  vultures  fell  to  tearing  his  cloth- 


2S6  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

ing,  doubtless  to  discover  his  wounds,  to  commence 
there  with  devouring  him.  So  it  happened.  The 
shattered  leg  was  the  first  to  suffer  tearing  by  the 
beaks,  which  tugged  at  the  already  lifeless  tendons 
and  muscles;  his  arm,  though  somewhat  protected 
by  the  astrakan,  which,  finally,  with  no  little  diffi- 
culty, the  vultures  ripped  open,  was  not  long  in 
suffering  the  same  fate.  Suddenly,  Antón  turned 
his  face,  which  bore  a  frightful  expression  of  pain, 
for  which  he  had  no  sounds  to  express.  A  power- 
ful beak  had  seized  the  anterior,  branchial,  muscle 
and  was  pulling  furiously  at  it.  The  involuntary 
movement  was  fatal  to  Antón.  Other  \ailtures 
cast  themselves  upon  the  exposed  face  and  dragged 
out  the  left  eye.  The  last  suffering  of  the  unfor- 
tunate was  Only  indicated  by  a  convulsive  trem- 
bling of  all  his  members.  He  felt  as  if  a  black 
pall,  very  black,  heavy,  very  heavy,  fell  upon  him 
and  then  there  came  over  him  a  sentiment  of  the 
profoundest  joy  —  perhaps,  that  his  nerves  could 
no  longer  carry  a  sensation  to  his  brain.  The 
mouth  opened,  closed,  and  he  lost  himself,  forever, 
in  the  night  without  end,  in  the  loving  bosom  of 
Mother  Nature,  who  received  the  remains  of  that 
organism,  her  creation,  to  decompose  it  into  its 
component  elements,  and  then  to  distribute  these, 
as  the  materials  of  other  organisms,  in  the  endless 
chain  of  life. 

Meantime,  that  other  night,  which  with  the  sun 
engenders  time  and,  with  him,  divides  it,  began  to 


MANUEL    SANCHES    MARMOL.  357 

envelop  the  earth,  and  the  carrion-eaters,  not  ac- 
customed to  eat  in  darkness,  abandoned  Anton's 
corpse  and  perched  themselves  on  the  neighboring 
branches,  to  await  the  feast  until  the  following 
day. 


358 


MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 


PORFIRIO  PARRA. 


Porfirio  Parra  was  born  in  the  State  of  Chihua- 
hua. In  1869,  when  he  was  scarcely  fourteen 
years  of  age,  he  was  voted  a  sum  of  money  by  the 
State  Legislature,  to  take  him  to  the  City  of  Mex- 
ico for  purposes  of  study.  From  1870  to  1872, 
he  attended  the  Escuela  Nacional  Preparatoria 
(National  Preparatory  School),  where  he  stood 
first  in  his  classes  and  where  his  conduct  was  so  ex- 
emplar}^  as  to  gain  him  state  aid  until  the  time  of 
his  graduation.     In   1871,   entering  the  competi- 


PORFIRIO   PARRA.  359 

tion  for  the  Professorship  of  History  in  the  Girls 
High  School,  he  gained  the  second  grade,  although 
three  eminent  historians  were  among  the  contes- 
tants. Entering  the  Escuela  Nacional  de  Medi- 
cina (National  Medical  School),  in  1873,  he 
maintained  high  rank  there  and  took  his  degree  in 
February,  1878.  In  March  of  that  year,  he  was 
appointed  Professor  of  Logic  in  the  Escuela  Na- 
cional Preparatoria.  In  1879,  by  competition,  he 
received  the  Professorship  of  Physiology  in  the 
National  School  of  Medicine,  with  which  he  has 
been  associated  in  some  capacity  ever  since.  In 
1880,  by  competition,  he  became  Surgeon  and 
Physician  of  the  Juarez  Hospital.  In  1886,  after 
a  brilliant  examination,  he  became  a  member  of 
the  Academia  de  Medicina  de  México  (Academy 
of  Medicine).  In  the  Escuela  Nacional  de  A^ri- 
cultura  V  Veterinaria  (National  Agricultural  and 
Veterinary  School),  he  has  held  chairs  of  mathe- 
matics and  zootechnology. 

An  alternate  Deputy  in  1882,  he  was  in  1898 
elected  Deputy  of  the  Federal  Congress,  and  has 
been  re-elected  until  the  present  time.  He  was 
made  chairman  of  the  House  Committee  on  Pub- 
lic Instruction.  In  1902  he  was  named  Secretary 
of  the  Upper  Council  of  Education.  Dr.  Parra 
has  participated,  officially,  in  several  of  the  most 
important  medical  congresses  held  in  Europe  dur- 
ing recent  years,  sometimes  as  a  delegate  from  his 
native  State  of  Chihuahua,  at  others  as  delegate 


360  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

from  the  Mexican  nation.  In  1892,  he  was  elect- 
ed a  member  of  the  Mexican  Academy. 

Dr.  Parra  has  written  both  in  poetry  and  prose. 
Most  of  what  he  writes  is  in  scientific  hnes.  Even 
in  poetry  he  is  a  scientist,  and  in  a  volume  of  his 
poems,  we  find  odes  to  the  mathematics  and  to 
medicine,  a  sonnet  to  a  skull,  and  poems  on  the 
Death  of  Pasteur,  Night,  Water.  Of  very  great 
importance  is  his  Nueva  Sistema  de  Lógica,  induc- 
tiva y  deductiva  (New  System  of  Logic,  Inductive 
and  Deductive).  He  has  written  one  novel.  Pa- 
cotillas, in  which  the  life  of  the  medical  student 
is  depicted.  It  is  from  this  work  that  we  have 
drawn  our  selections. 

López  (Santa  Anna),  Robles  (El  Chango  — 
"  the  monkey  "),  Albarez  (Patillitas)  and  Tellez 
(Pacotillas),  are  fellow-students  in  the  School  of 
Medicine.  They  are  friends  but  present  four 
quite  different  types  of  character.  Santa  Anna 
figures  least  in  the  story  and  attends  most  strictly 
to  business;  Patillitas  is  a  dandy,  anxious  to  make 
feminine  conquests;  El  Chango  drops  out  of  school 
before  he  has  completed  his  course,  toadies  in  poli- 
tics, rapidly  rising  to  importance  as  the  private 
secretary  of  a  departmental  minister,  and  marries 
great  wealth.  Pacotillas,  the  hero,  is  an  astonish- 
ing combination  of  strong  and  weak  qualities.  Of 
lofty  ideals,  of  great  firmness  in  announcing  and 
supporting  them,  and  of  brilliant  intellectual  pow- 
ers, he  is  cold,  morose,  lacking  in  initiative,  easily 


PORFIRIO   PARRA.  36  I 

depressed,  and  procrastinating.  He  smokes  con- 
stantly and  excessively  and  readily  yields  to  drink. 
He  loves  a  beautiful  and  amiable  girl  and  lives 
with  her  without  marriage;  though  he  realizes  the 
injustice  this  is  to  her,  the  injustice  —  excused  at 
the  time  by  poverty  —  is  never  atoned  for  in  his 
days  of  comparative  prosperity.  Pacotillas  and 
his  beautiful  Amalia  suffer  enormous  trials  of  pov- 
erty; Paco  finally  secures  a  position  on  the  force  of 
an  opposition  paper.  He  antagonizes  the  govern- 
ment, is  arrested  and  thrown  in  jail,  where  he  dies 
of  typhus.  The  book  is  an  interesting  picture  of 
Mexican  life,  but  it  is  a  particularly  difficult  task 
to  make  brief  selections  from  it  for  translation. 

EXTRACTS    FROM    PACOTILLAS. 

The  next  day  the  vigilant  argus,  accompanied 
by  a  faithful  friend,  was  at  his  post  from  nine 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  He  was  not  on  beat  but 
he  warned  his  fellow  policeman  to  pay  no  atten- 
tion to  what  was  about  to  take  place  at  the  house, 
since  it  concerned  a  personage  of  consequence, 
closely  connected  with  the  official  world,  whose 
plans  it  were  best  not  to  disturb;  that  the  gentle- 
man did  not  ask  something  for  nothing  and  would 
not  fail  to  reward  him;  that  everything  would  go 
on  behind  closed  doors,  and  was  really  no  more 
than  a  joke;  that  It  concerned  a  private  matter, 
with  no  political  bearings;  that  the  woman  living 


362  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

in  the  house  badly  repaid  him  who  supported  her, 
and  that  he  merely  wished  to  scare  her  and  put  her 
to  shame. 

The  policeman  on  the  beat  permitted  himself  to 
be  convinced  by  Pablo's  diplomatic  arguments;  he 
demanded,  indeed,  a  guarantee  that  nothing  serious 
should  take  place,  that  there  should  be  no  fight, 
wounds,  shots,  or  other  scandal. 

No,  comrade,  answered  Pablo,  it  only  concerns 
giving  a  thrashing  to  a  young  fellow  who  is  accus- 
tomed to  enjoy  women,  whom  other  men  support. 
Put  yourself  in  the  place  of  the  deceived  man; 
what  would  you  do?  What  would  any  other  de- 
cent man  do,  in  such  a  case?  Just  what  he  is 
going  to  do.  I  shall  not  compromise  you.  You 
see  that  I  am  also  one  of  the  police-force.  Fur- 
ther, this  may  help  you,  the  gentleman  we  are  help- 
ing is  in  with  the  government,  and  he  does  not 
expect  service  for  nothing. 

Completely  convinced,  the  policeman  agreed 
that,  at  a  signal  from  Pablo,  he  would  walk  slowly 
toward  the  Plazuela  del  Carmen,  to  see  what  was 
going  on  there. 

The  astute  Pablo  had  arranged  for  two  stout 
fellows  of  evil  mien  to  meet  him  at  the  corner  pul- 
quería; they  arrived  at  the  place  appointed  at  half- 
past-nine  carrying  heavy  cudgels  as  walking  sticks. 

A  little  before  ten  the  servant  of  Mercedes  left 
the  house;  Pablo,  who  had  already  made  her  ac- 
quaintance, overtook  her  and  said : 


PORFIRIO   PARRA.  363 

"  Where  are  you  going  so  fast,  my  dear?  " 

"  I  am  going  far;  I  am  taking  a  message  to  the 
Arcade  of  Belem  and  from  there  to  Sapo  street,  to 
the  socursal." 

"  Does  not  my  pretty  one  want  a  drop?  " 

The  pretty  one  did  want  a  drop,  entered  the 
pulquería,  drank,  submitted  to  various  pinches,  and 
left.  Pablo  at  once  said  to  his  friend:  "  Run 
and  call  the  General,"  and  he  planted  himself 
where  he  could  see  the  house. 

A  little  later  poor  Mercedes,  who  suspected 
nought  of  what  was  plotting  for  her  undoing, 
opened  the  windows  and  looked  out.  It  was  the 
signal,  arranged  between  her  and  Patillitas,  indi- 
cating that  there  were  no  Moors  on  the  coast  and 
that  the  happy  lover  might  enter.  He  was  not 
slow  in  appearing,  strutting  pompously  as  If  enjoy- 
ing in  anticipation  the  pleasure  he  was  about  to 
have.  He  caught  sight  of  his  sweetheart,  which 
was  equal  to  seeing  the  gates  of  paradise  opening, 
saluted  her  with  much  elegance  and  cautiously  en- 
tered the  doors  of  the  court-yard,  which  were  ajar. 

"  The  fish  falls  into  the  net !  how  easy !  how 
easy!  "*  murmured  the  malicious  Pablo,  humming 
the  accompanying  tune  In  a  low  voice. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  had  passed  when,  by  San 
Pedro  y  San  Pablo  St.,  the  General  was  seen  ap- 
proaching, as  grave,  as  correct,  and  as  arrogant  as 

•  Cayo  el  pez  en  la  remanRa: 
Qué   ganga!      qué   ganga  1 


364  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

ever,  smoking  his  unfailing  cigar,  without  hasten- 
ing his  pace  or  displaying  the  least  emotion. 

As  soon  as  Pablo  saw  him,  he  spoke  to  the  po- 
liceman on  the  beat,  who  at  once  walked  slowly  in 
the  direction  of  the  Plazuela,  as  he  had  promised. 
Then  Pablo  summoned  his  assistants  from  the  pul- 
quería and  all  three  joined  the  messenger,  who  had 
been  sent  to  call  the  General  and  who  had  now 
returned ;  the  whole  party  stopped  on  the  sidewalk 
opposite  Mercedes'  house. 

The  General,  without  quickening  his  pace,  with- 
out looking  at  the  men,  nor  making  any  signal  to 
them,  had  already  arrived  before  the  house. 
When  he  had  almost  reached  the  gateway,  the  four 
men  crossed  the  street  and,  when  he  entered,  they 
cautiously  followed. 

López,  with  measured  tread,  crossed  the  court, 
followed  by  his  men;  he  turned  to  the  left  and 
knocked  at  the  house-door,  which  was  fastened. 
No  one  responded,  but  noises  of  alarm  were  heard 
within,  a  sound  as  of  a  person  running  and  finding 
some  piece  of  furniture  in  his  way,  a  stifled  cry, 
and  the  murmur  of  troubled  voices. 

The  General  knocked  a  second,  and  a  third 
time  with  briefer  interval  and  with  greater  force. 
No  one  replied  and  now  nothing  was  heard.  The 
General  knocked  for  the  fourth  time  and  said,  in 
his  stentorian  voice,  though  without  displaying 
anger  or  emotion :  **  Open,  Mercedes,  it  is  I." 

"  I   am  coming,"   shrilly  answered  a  woman's 


PORFIRIO    PARRA.  365 

voice,  "  I  am  dressing;  I  was  ill  and  had  not  yet 
risen." 

The  General  waited  with  the  utmost  calm.  No 
escape  was  possible;  from  the  hall  one  passed  di- 
rectly into  the  room,  which  was  the  scene  of  the 
guilty  love  and  which  received  light  by  a  grated 
window,  that  opened  onto  the  patio  of  the  next 
house.  The  General,  who  knew  all  the  hiding 
places  and  the  location  of  the  pieces  of  furniture  in 
the  room,  was  delighted,  imagining  the  little  agree- 
able plight  of  the  student,  who  had  already,  trem- 
blingly, hidden  himself  under  the  bed. 

After  ten  minutes  waiting,  Mercedes,  visibly 
pale  with  chiqiiedores  *  on  her  temples,  her  head 
tied  up  in  a  handkerchief,  and  covered  with  a  loose 
gown,  which  she  was  still  hooking,  finally  opened 
the  door,  smiled  at  the  General,  and  attempting  to 
overcome  her  manifest  uneasiness,  said:  "  Ah,  sir! 
what  a  surprise !  " 

*'  Good  morning,  madam,"  said  the  General, 
abruptly  entering  the  hall  and  then  the  inner  room, 
followed  by  his  four  men,  and  paying  no  attention 
to  Mercedes,  who,  following  them  all,  exclaimed, 
each  time  more  afflicted: 

"  What  do  you  wish,  sir?  What  are  you  look- 
ing for?     Why  have  these  men  come  here?  " 

Once  in  the  room,  the  General  stopped  near  the 
door,  and,  as  he  expected,  saw  under  the  bed  the 


*  Small    round    plasters    stuck    upon    the    temples    for    the    relief    of 
headache. 


366  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

coiled  up  body  of  the  student  who  would  gladly 
have  given  his  whiskers  to  be  elsewhere. 

"  Drag  out  that  shameless  fellow,"  said  the 
General  to  his  men,  "  and  beat  him  for  me." 

"  Señor,  for  God's  sake !  "  cried  Mercedes. 

The  four  men  obeyed  the  order.  The  unhappy 
student  did  not  even  try  to  escape.  One  took  him 
by  the  feet  and  dragged  him  out  into  the  middle 
of  the  room;  the  others  began  to  discharge  a  hail 
of  blows  upon  him,  distributing  them  evenly  over 
the  shoulders,  back,  seat,  and  legs  of  that  unfor- 
tunate, who  squirmed  upon  the  floor  like  an  epilep- 
tic, writhing,  screaming,  and  howling,  with  a 
choked  voice : 

*'Ay!  ay!  they  are  killing  me!  ay!  ay!  help! 
Ay!  ay!  infamous  fellows!  assassins!" 

Meantime  the  General  looked  on  at  that  calam- 
itous spectacle,  without  a  word;  when  the  flogging 
seemed  to  him  sufficient  he  exclaimed  — "  Hold !  " 
and  then,  addressing  the  man  who  had  been 
flogged,  added:  "Be  warned  by  this  experience 
and  let  the  women  of  other  men  alone." 

The  maltreated  Patillitas  arose,  hurled  some 
insolence  at  the  General,  and  threw  himself  upon 
him  with  his  fists  clenched;  the  floggers  started  to 
seize  him,  but  the  General  said,  "  Leave  him  to 
me."  And,  with  the  greatest  calmness,  he  allowed 
him  to  deal  his  inoffensive  blow,  and,  then,  seizing 
his  wrist,  gave  it  such  a  wrench  that  the  poor  fel- 
low suffered  more  than  from  the  beating,  and,  not- 


PORFIRIO    PARRA.  367 

withstanding  all  his  efforts  to  the  contrary,  fell 
upon  his  knees  before  his  conqueror,  howling  with 
pain. 

"  Listen  well,  jackanapes,"  said  the  General, 
without  loosening  his  hold,  "  get  away  from  here 
at  once;  and,  if  you  prefer  the  least  complaint  or 
cause  the  least  scandal,  I  will  put  you  into  jail  and 
afterwards  send  you  into  the  army  as  a  vagabond 
and  mischief-maker." 

He  loosed  his  prisoner  who  rose  uttering  suffo- 
cated groans  and  muttering  inarticulate  insolences. 
Limping,  and  with  his  dress  disordered,  he  started 
to  walk  away;  he  took  his  hat,  which  one  of  the 
floggers,  at  a  signal  from  the  General,  handed 
him.  Pablo  followed  him  and  at  reaching  the  hall 
door  gave  him  a  kick  behind,  saying  with  a  horse 
laugh : 

"  There  !  take  your  deserts,  you  !  " 

"  Now,"  said  the  General,  addressing  Mercedes, 
who,  huddled  on  the  sofa,  with  her  kerchief 
thrown  over  her  head  and  covering  her  face,  was 
sobbing  violently,  "  indicate  what  you  wish  to  take 
with  you  and  get  out  into  the  street." 

"  Keep  it  all,  horrible  old  man,  monster  without 
heart  or  entrails  of  pity,"  said  the  unhappy  woman, 
dr}Mng  her  eyes;  and,  arranging  her  dress  as  best 
she  could  and  wrapping  up  her  head,  she  left. 

When  she  had  disappeared,  the  General,  as 
pleased  as  if  he  had  consummated  some  great  act 
of   justice,    dismissed   the    floggers,    after   paying 


368  MODERN   MEXICAN  AUTHORS. 

them ;  then,  he  went  out  onto  the  street  with  a  lofty 
air,  and,  smolcing  his  ever-present  cigar,  closed  the 
gate  of  the  court,  put  the  key  into  his  pocket,  and 
walked  away. 


The  Ghango  did  not  pronounce  this  long  dis- 
course at  one  breath,  but  interrupted  himself  from 
time  to  time  to  sip  coffee  or  to  ask  Pacotillas  inci- 
dental questions,  which  he  answered  in  his  usual 
laconic  style.  He  expressed  himself  somewhat 
more  upon  his  matrimonial  troubles  and  the  faults 
of  his  wife's  parents.  Then,  changing  his  tone,  he 
said: 

"  Now  I  have  tired  you  in  speaking  of  myself 
and  my  affairs;  now  you  must  reciprocate,  as  a 
good  friend,  and  tell  me  all  about  yourself." 

"  I  can  do  that  in  a  few  words :  I  am  slowly  con- 
tinuing my  course  of  study  and  with  more  or  less 
of  difficulty  and  labor  gain  my  bread." 

"  Spartan !  You  do  wrong  not  to  confide  in 
me.  Am  I  to  understand  that  you  desire  nothing? 
that  you  do  not  care  to  better  your  condition?  " 

"  I  do  not  say  so ;  I  desire  many  things ;  I  desire 
to  escape  from  poverty ;  but,  I  am  content  with  my 
situation." 

"  What  a  fool  you  are !  I  could  do  much  for 
you,  because  I  love  you  well,  and  I  would  willingly 
offer  you  more  than  one  chance  of  improving  your 
condition." 


PORFIRIO    PARRA.  369 

*'  I  thank  you  for  your  good  will  but  I  see  no 
means  of  taking  advantage  of  it." 

"  See  Paco,  let  us  speak  frankly;  notwithstand- 
ing your  assertion  that  you  are  content  with 
your  situation,  I  cannot  believe  it;  the  fact  is 
that  you  are  very  proud,  that  you  do  not  care  to 
ask  anything  from  anyone;  that  is  all  right  with 
strangers,  but  when  I,  your  school-fellow  and 
friend,  anticipate  your  desires  and  offer " 

"  I  thank  you  and  beg  you  to  respect  my  free- 
dom of  action." 

"  What  a  hard-shell  you  are !  Come,  consent 
to  this  anyway  —  separate  yourself  from  the  In- 
dependiente; I  promise  to  supply  resources  for  you 
to  found  a  paper  of  your  own,  which  will  bring 
you  at  least  double  what  Don  Marcos  can  pay  you, 
and  also  to  secure  you  a  grant  to  aid  you  in  your 
studies,  and,  if  you  desire  more,  you  shall  have 
more." 

"  But,  truly,  I  desire  nothing;  I  owe  considera- 
tion to  Don  Marcos  and  cannot  treat  him  cava- 
lierly," said  Paco,  at  the  same  time  saying  to  him- 
self, "  Oho,  now  I  see !  " 

"  You  are  fearfully  stubborn,"  said  the  Chango, 
"  but  you  are  your  own  master  and  I  will  not  insist 
further;  but,  now,  I  come  to  one  favor,  begging 
you  affectionately,  in  the  name  of  our  old  friend- 
ship, to  grant  it;  do  not  continue  to  discuss,  in  your 
bulletins,  the  objectionable  question  upon  which 
you  have  been  writing." 


370  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

"  In  my  soul,  I  regret  that  I  cannot  gratify  you, 
since  I  have  resolved  to  examine  that  matter  in  all 
its  aspects." 

"  You  are  more  tenacious  than  a  Biscayan ! 
Don't  you  understand  that  in  this  you  do  me  a  per- 
sonal injury  and  expose  me  to  public  criticism?  " 

"  I  do  not  see  why?  I  have  never  mentioned 
your  name,  nor  shall  I  mention  it;  nor  are  you  re- 
sponsible for  that  contract." 

"  Don't  be  a  ninny:  although  you  do  not  men- 
ilon  me  by  name;  although,  legally,  you  do  not 
treat  of  me;  yet  the  odium  of  the  transaction  falls 
on  me." 

"  Whether  the  part  you  play  Is  odious  or  not,  I 
am  not  to  blame;  you  have  chosen  It  freely.  You 
act,  and  I  judge.     We  are  both  within  our  rights." 

"  In  fine,  Paco,  If  you  continue  to  write  as  here- 
tofore, you  do  me  an  Injury,  you  attack  me." 

"  That  Is  not  my  Intention,  nor  do  I  believe  it 
the  necessary  result  of  my  procedure." 

"  Of  course.  If  you  attack  me,  you  give  me  the 
right  to  defend  myself." 

"  Granted,"  answered  Paco,  coldly. 

"  And  you  know  that  I  have  many  means  of 
doing  it?  " 

"  I  know  It  and  they  have  no  terrors  for  me." 

"  Paco,  you  despise  me,"  said  the  Chango  with 
annoyance. 

"  No,  I  merely  answer  you,"  replied  Paco, 
coldly. 


PORFIRIO    PARRA.  37  I 

"  For  the  last  time  I  will  sum  up  the  situation. 
If  you  consent  to  withdraw  from  the  Independiente 
you  shall  have  whatever  advantages  you  desire 
that  I  can  give  you;  you  shall  have  the  same  if  you 
consent,  at  least,  to  speak  no  more  of  the  contract. 
Do  you  agree?  " 

"  I  have  already  said  no,"  replied  Paco  with 
dignity. 

"  Very  well ;  it  is  hard  for  me  to  proceed  against 
a  fellow-student,  whom  I  have  always  esteemed  for 
his  talents  and  his  brilliant  promise;  for  that  rea- 
son, I  desired  to  speak  with  you  beforehand  and 
give  you  proofs  of  my  friendship,  but  since  you 
are  obstinate,  I  warn  you  that  I  shall  prosecute  you 
criminally." 

"  Thanks  for  the  warning." 

"  Do  you  reflect  that  you  will  be  proceeded 
against,  that  you  will  be  sent  to  jail,  that  you  will 
be  sentenced?  " 

"  Yes,  I  consider  all,  and  I  am  prepared  for  all; 
you  will  allow  me  to  say  that  I  appreciate  the 
kindness  and  politeness,  with  which  you  have  treat- 
ed me;  but  now,  as  it  seems  your  wish  to  induce  me 
to  maintain  silence  and  to  separate  myself  from 
the  Independiente,  and  as  I  will  never  agree  to 
this,  I  judge  my  further  presence  here  to  be  useless 
and,  with  your  permission,  will  leave." 

And  the  young  man  at  once  rose  and  left;  the 
Chango  followed  him  without  a  word;  they  went 
down  the  stairway,  crossed  the  corridor.  Pacotillas 


372  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

took  his  hat  in  the  hall,  and  on  saying  adieu  to 
Robles,  the  latter  Involuntarily  moved  by  the  dig- 
nity of  Pacotillas,  said  to  him:  "  Think  yet,  Paco." 
"I  need  not  think;  neither  threats  nor  bribes 
can  swerve  me  from  what  I  believe  to  be  my  duty." 


EMILIO    RABASA. 


373 


EMILIO  RABASA. 


EmlHo  Rabasa  vvas  horn  in  the  puehlo  of  Oco- 
zautla,  State  of  Chiapas,  on  May  22,  1856.  He 
studied  law  in  the  City  of  Oaxaca,  being  licensed 
to  practice  on  April  4,  1878.  He  returned  to  his 
native  State,  where  he  was  a  Deputy  to  Congress 
and  Director  of  the  Institute  during  the  years  1881 
and  1882.  He  then  removed  to  Oaxaca,  where 
he  was  Judge  of  the  Civil  Court,  Deputy  to  the 
State  Legislature  and  Secretary  to  Gov-ernor 
Mier  y  Tcran,  during  1885  and  1886.     Remov- 


374  MODERN   MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

¡ng  to  the  City  of  Mexico  in  1886,  he  there  filled 
various  judicial  and  other  offices.  In  1891,  he 
was  elected  Governor  of  Chiapas,  which  office  he 
filled  for  two  years,  particularly  interesting  him- 
self in  improving  the  financial  condition  of  the 
State.  In  1894,  he  was  elected  Senator  from  the 
State  of  Sinaloa,  an  office  which  he  still  fills.  He 
resides  in  the  City  of  Mexico,  where  he  is  engaged 
in  legal  practice. 

The  work  which  has  given  him  literary  fame  is 
a  four  volume  novel,  written  under  the  nom-de- 
plnme  of  Sancho  Polo.  These  volumes  bear  spe- 
cial titles  —  La  Bola  (The  Local  Outbreak),  La 
gran  Ciencia  (The  Grand  Science),  El  cuarto  Po- 
der (The  Fourth  Power),  and  Moneda  falsa 
(False  Money).  These  novels  have  their  impor- 
tance in  Mexican  literature.  Victoriano  Salado 
Albarez,  speaking  of  the  notable  advancement  of 
the  Mexican  novel  in  recent  years,  says :  "  The 
works  of  Sancho  Polo,  precious  studies, — 
initiated  this  truly  fecund  and  permanent  move- 
ment." Luis  Gonzales  Obregón  says  of  these 
books:  "These  are  notable  for  the  correctness  of 
their  style,  for  masterly  skill  in  description,  most 
rich  in  precious  details,  for  the  perfect  way  in 
which  those  who  figure  in  them  are  characterized, 
for  the  natural  and  unexpected  development,  as 
well  as  for  many  other  beauties,  which  we  regret 
not  being  able  to  enumerate  here."  Emilio  Ra- 
basa's  active  public  life  has  prevented  his  follow- 


EMILIO    RABASA.  375 

ing  up  his  early  success  in  literature.  Since  the 
Sancho  Polo  series,  he  has  written  but  one  brief 
novel,  La  Guerra  de  tres  años  (The  Three  Years 
War).  In  1888,  in  connection  with  the  well- 
known  publisher,  Reyes  Spindola,  he  founded  El 
Universal  (The  Univ^ersal),  which  is  still  pub- 
lished, and  which  really  initiated  a  new  era  in  Mex- 
ican journalism. 

The  hero  in  the  Sancho  Polo  novels  is  a  youth 
named  Juan  Quiñones.  Born  and  reared  in  an 
obscure  village,  he  loves  a  pretty  girl  who  lives 
with  her  uncle,  a  man  of  common  origin  and  medi- 
ocre attainments.  Don  Mateo  is,  however,  a 
rising  man,  and,  as  he  mounts,  his  ambitions  for 
his  niece  mount  also.  The  boy  has  real  ability, 
but  is  petulant  and  precipitate,  throwing  himself 
into  positions  from  which  there  should  be  no 
escape,  and  learning  nothing  by  experience.  He 
passes  through  a  series  of  remarkable  experi- 
ences —  a  local  outbreak,  a  State  revolution,  anti- 
governmental  journalism  in  the  capital  city,  a 
discreditable  love  affair  —  finally,  of  course,  gain- 
ing the  girl. 

THE  DAY  OF  BATTLE. 

T  attempted  in  vain  to  restrain  and  reduce  the 
uneasiness  and  disquietude,  by  which  T  was  pos- 
sessed and  which  Minga  and  her  mother  but  in- 
creased, now  dragging  me  away  from  the  window. 


376  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

now  preventing  me  from  drawing  the  bolt  to  open 
the  door,  now  bringing  me  back  from  the  court- 
yard whither  I  had  desired  to  go  to  escape  their 
oversight. 

"  What  a  Don  Abundio !  "  said  Minga,  jeer- 
ingly.  "  Trust  him!  But  have  no  fear;  he  will 
not  now  let  the  girl  go." 

Nevertheless,  I  sent  the  old  woman  back  to  see 
Felicia,  to  beg  her,  if  preparations  for  the  jour- 
ney were  not  immediately  discontinued,  to  send  me 
word  by  her  servant.  And  the  good  old  woman, 
who  was  brave  and  fearless,  started  out  again,  cau- 
tioning her  daughter  not  to  allow  me  to  commit 
any  imprudence. 

What  a  day  was  that  for  me.  The  sun  ran  its 
course  with  desperate  slowness,  but  finally  stood 
in  mid-heaven.  The  old  woman  had  not  yet 
returned,  nor  had  Don  Mateo  made  his  attack,  nor 
had  I  news  of  any  one.  I  do  not  understand  how 
I  could  remain  shut  up  all  those  hours,  without 
breaking  out  and  letting  myself  be  killed. 

While  thus  chafing,  and  more  often  than  ever 
peeping  from  the  window  to  catch  a  distant  glimpse 
of  the  old  woman,  a  choked  and  panting  voice, 
at  my  shoulder,  cried : 

"  They  are  coming." 

It  was  '  Uncle  Lucas,'  who  seemed  in  that  one 
day  to  exhaust  all  his  remaining  life's  force.  He 
seated  himself  on  Minga's  bed,  with  his  mouth 


EMILIO   RABASA.  377 

open,  his  chest  puffing  like  a  blacksmith's  bellows, 
his  head  nodding  in  time  to  his  heavy  breathing. 

In  spite  of  his  breathlessness,  I  made  him  speak, 
although  his  words  were  broken  by  his  gasps  for 
air.  Don  Mateo  and  his  force  were  organizing 
at  half  a  league's  distance.  Uncle  Lucas  had  told 
the  Colonel  all  that  the  Sindico  *  had  said  and 
had  returned  with  the  order  to  unite  as  many  men 
as  possible  from  our  quarter  of  the  town,  in  order 
to  impede  and  disconcert  Coderas's  force,  when  it 
should  return  to  town,  as  probably  it  would  only 
skirmish  in  the  open  field.  Just  as  he  arrived  at 
the  creek.  Uncle  Lucas  saw  five  men  on  horseback, 
the  advance  guard  of  Coderas,  descend  from  the 
terrace. 

In  fact,  while  he  was  speaking  we  heard  the 
noise  of  horses  running  through  the  street  and  the 
clank  of  swords  against  the  stirrups.  Almost  at 
the  same  moment  the  door  opened  and  Minga's 
mother  burst  into  the  room,  her  face  pale,  her  eyes 
flashing  fire. 

"  A  little  more  and  those  dogs  had  had  me !  " 
she  cried  angrily  and  hurled  forth  a  tirade  which 
I  cannot  repeat. 

"  What  is  the  matter?  "  I  asked,  agitated. 

"What  is  it!  If  it  were  not  for  my  nephew 
Matias,  who  was  in  the  trenches  by  the  church, 
they  would  not  have  let  me  go.  Cursed  wolves. 
When  Pedro  comes  I  will  tell  him  that  they  would 

•  Town  treasurer. 


378  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

not  let  me  go  and  the  foul  words  they  said  to  me. 
As  I  told  you,  were  it  not  for  Matias,  I  would  still 
be  there  in  the  Plaza." 

"And  what  did  Felicia  say?"  I  interrupted, 
impatiently. 

"The  horses  are  all  ready;  but  Don  Abundio 
told  her  to  tell  you  to  have  no  concern;  Remedios 
need  not  go.  But  remember,  Juanito,  this  man 
has  no  shame." 

Keeping  her  to  the  point,  I  made  her  tell  me  all 
that  could  concern  us.  Coderas  and  Soria  had 
agreed  upon  a  plan  of  defense,  believing  that  Don 
Mateo  could  not  take  the  Plaza  in  several  days; 
meantime  the  auxiliaries  from  the  next  district, 
whose  Jefe  politico  was  in  communication  with 
San  Martin,  could  arrive.  At  the  last  moment,  it 
had  been  decided  that  Coderas  should  sally  with 
two  hundred  men,  for  a  skirmish  just  outside  the 
town,  falling  back  upon  the  hundred,  who  re- 
mained in  the  Plaza  with  Soria;  if  fortune  should 
prove  averse  to  them,  which  the  intrepid  leader 
did  not  believe,  they  would  withdraw  to  the  best 
entrenchments,  in  order  to  force  Don  Mateo  to 
attack  them  there. 

"  Now  for  the  main  thing,"  said  the  old  woman 
to  me.  "  Remedios  told  me  to  say  that  they  plan 
to  take  the  prisoners  from  the  jail  and  put  them 
in  the  trenches,  to  terrify  the  other  party,  who  can- 
not fire  without  killing  their  own  friends  and 
relatives." 


EMILIO    RABASA.  379 

My  hair  stood  on  end,  I  felt  a  giddiness  and 
almost  fell,  with  my  face  convulsed  with  emotion 
and  with  shortened  breath,  I  could  scarcely  turn 
to  Uncle  Lucas.  Terrified,  he  rose  and  tried  to 
detain  me;  but  I  promptly  regained  my  self-con- 
trol and  assumed  the  voice  of  command  which,  in 
such  cases,  constitutes  me  a  leader  of  those 
about  me. 

"Run!"  I  said  to  him  quickly.  "Immedi- 
ately collect  all  those  who  last  night  promised  to 
follow  us  and  bring  them  here  at  once." 

My  voice  was  so  authoritative  and  commanding 
that  I  scarce  awaited  a  reply.  The  old  man  made 
none  and  directed  his  way  to  the  door;  on  opening 
it,  he  started  violently. 

"There  they  come!  they  come!"  he  said  in 
a  whisper. 

Minga  drew  me  violently  back  from  the  win- 
dow, and  Coderas  and  his  force  galloped  down 
the  road  from  the  creek. 

Some  villagers  followed  the  force  from  curiosity, 
others  appeared  in  their  doorways,  and  some  few 
shut  themselves  in,  cautiously  barring  their  doors. 

My  wisdom  and  patience  were  now  completely 
exhausted,  and,  my  excitement  depriving  me  of  all 
prudence,  I  rushed  forth  with  Uncle  Lucas,  order- 
ing him  to  promptly  meet  me  at  that  spot. 

With  no  attempt  at  concealment,  without  pre- 
caution and  without  fear,  I  ran  to  Bermejo's  house, 
to  the  houses  of  the  imprisoned  regidors,  to  the 


380  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

houses  of  all  those  who  were  suffering  in  jail, 
alarming  all  with  the  terrible  notice  which  I  had 
received.  In  this  house,  I  secured  a  man;  in  that 
one,  some  weapon;  from  here  I  led  forth  a  terri- 
fied son ;  from  there,  a  half-crazed  father.  Every- 
where I  carried  terror  and  awakened  the  most  vio- 
lent manifestations  of  hatred  and  affliction. 

Half  an  hour  later,  in  Pedro  Martin's  patio,  I 
had  collected  some  thirty  men,  who,  worthy  fol- 
lowers of  a  leader  such  as  I,  would  fight  like 
tigers  and  would  not  be  sated  with  three  hundred 
victims.  One  proposed  hanging  the  wife  and  chil- 
dren of  Coderas;  another  proposed  dragging  Soria 
through  the  streets  and  casting  his  lifeless  body  on 
the  dungheap;  another  suggested  sacking  of  the 
house  of  the  Gonzagas,  and  another,  cutting  the 
throats  of  all  who  lived  in  the  ward  of  Las  Lomas, 
with  a  few  exceptions.  To  me,  this  all  appeared 
excellent  and  I  energetically  approved  these  savage 
propositions,  while  I  distributed  arms  to  those  who 
had  none  and  issued  my  orders  to  Uncle  Lucas. 

At  that  moment,  the  first  discharge  of  the  battle 
was  heard;  a  cold  chill  ran  through  my  body,  mix- 
ture of  terror  and  of  impatience  for  the  combat.  I 
felt  myself  impelled  toward  the  Plaza,  and  from 
my  lips  Issued  a  torrent  of  foul  words,  which  I  was 
astonished  at  myself  for  knowing.  Evil  predomi- 
nated in  me;  under  the  kindled  passions  of  the 
hola,  I  was  unconsciously  transformed,  my  nature 
becoming  that  of  the  mass  around  me. 


EMILIO   RABASA.  38 1 

In  such  moments  I  had  no  idea  of  forming  a 
plan  of  campaign.  I  only  knew  that  I  was  going 
in  defence  of  my  mother,  whose  hfe  was  gravely 
imperilled,  and  that  I  ought  to  hasten  to  achieve 
my  object.  I  did  not  think  how  I  should  attain 
it,  nor  did  it  occur  to  me  to  think.  Uncle  Lucas 
ventured  to  remind  me  that  the  Colonel's  plan  was 
for  us  to  hamper  the  enemy  in  his  retreat. 

"  All  follow  me !"  I  cried  with  authority. 

And  all,  with  resolution  equal  to  my  own,  fol- 
lowed me. 

Passing  behind  Minga's  house,  to  the  edge  of 
the  village,  we  took  the  road  to  the  right  and 
marched  at  quickstep  up  the  street  parallel  to  that 
which  led  to  the  Plaza.  On  arriving  in  front  of 
this  we  halted,  to  the  terror  of  the  neighbors,  and 
then  cautiously  advanced  until  the  jail  was  in 
sight. 

Not  dreaming  of  enemies  so  near,  the  soldiers 
in  the  Plaza  were  listening  to  the  fusillade  which 
was  taking  place,  almost  on  the  banks  of  the  creek. 
In  front  of  us  was  a  gentle  slope,  from  the  gully  up 
to  the  Plaza  and  the  prison  door;  at  that  place, 
which  could  scarcely  be  seen,  because  of  the  village 
corral  which  intervened,  a  sentinel  was  visible. 

"  They  have  not  yet  taken  out  the  prisoners," 
I  said  to  my  companions;  "  we  will  wait  here  until 
we  see  some  movement  showing  that  they  are  about 
to  remove  them." 

Among  our  arms  was  a  single  gun;  the  rest  were 


382  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

machetes,  darts,  or  knives  tied  to  the  end  of  staves. 
I  nevertheless  believed  myself  invincible. 

The  distant  noise  of  musketry,  which,  to  tell  the 
truth,  was  not  great  or  terrible,  consequent  on  the 
small  number  of  the  combatants  and  the  still 
smaller  number  of  the  firearms,  became  less  at  the 
end  of  a  few  minutes,  and  the  few  shots  heard 
seemed  to  me  to  be  already  discharged  within  San 
Martin.  I  ordered  my  party  to  approach  the  foot 
of  the  slope,  I  myself  remaining  where  I  was  so  as 
not  to  lose  sight  of  the  jail;  and  I  ran  to  join  them, 
when  the  discharges  from  the  entrenchments 
showed  me  that  Soria  had  entered  the  Plaza  and 
that  Don  Mateo  was  In  front  of  It. 

We  mounted  to  the  jail,  before  the  sentinel  could 
give  the  alarm  and  at  the  moment  when  Coderas 
and  Soria  repulsed  Don  Mateo  in  his  first  assault. 
Taken  by  surprise,  the  sentinel  fled  to  the  Plaza, 
and  we,  without  thought  of  the  imprudence  of  our 
hasty  action,  hurled  ourselves  against  the  prison 
door,  and,  after  a  few  efforts,  burst  it  in,  broken 
into  fragments. 

LA  BOLA. 

How  many  then,  as  I,  wept  orphaned  and  cursed 
the  hola!  In  that  miserable  village,  which 
scarcely  had  enough  men  to  till  Its  soil,  and  in 
which  the  loftiness  of  citizenship  was  unknown,  its 
victims  had  floods  of  tears  and  despair,  instead  of 


EMILIO   RABASA.  383 

laurels,  the  reward  of  right.  Here  the  father, 
love  and  support  of  the  family,  was  mourned; 
there,  a  son,  hope  and  stay  of  aged  parents;  there, 
again,  a  husband,  torn  from  the  fireside  to  be 
borne  to  a  field  of  battle,  which  had  not  even  tragic 
grandeur,  but  only  the  caricaturing  ridiculousness 
of  a  low  comedy. 

And  all  that  was  called  in  San  Martin  a  revolu- 
tion !  No !  Let  us  not  disgrace  the  Spanish  lan- 
guage nor  human  progress.  It  is  Indeed  time  for 
some  one  of  the  learned  correspondents  of  the 
Royal  Academy  to  send  for  its  dictionary,  this  fruit 
harvested  from  the  rich  soil  of  American  lands. 
We,  the  inventors  of  the  thing  itself,  have  given 
it  a  name  without  having  recourse  to  Greek  or 
Latin  roots,  and  we  have  called  it  hola.  We  hold 
the  copyright;  because,  while  revolution,  as  an 
inexorable  law,  is  known  in  all  the  world,  the  bola 
can  only  be  developed,  like  the  yellow  fever,  in 
certain  latitudes.  Revolution  grows  out  of  an 
idea,  it  moves  nations,  modifies  institutions,  de- 
mands citizens;  the  hola  requires  no  principles,  and 
has  none,  it  is  born  and  dies  within  short  space,  and 
demands  ignorant  persons.  In  a  word,  the  revolu- 
tion is  a  daughter  of  the  world's  progress  and  of  an 
inexorable  law  of  humanity;  the  hola  is  daughter 
of  ignorance  and  the  inevitable  scourge  of  back- 
ward populations. 

We  know  revolutions  well,  and  there  are  many 
who  stigmatize  and  calumniate  them;  but,  to  them 


384  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

we  owe  the  rapid  transformation  of  society  and  of 
institutions.  They  would  be  veritable  baptisms 
of  regeneration  and  advancement,  if  within  them 
did  not  grow  the  weed  of  the  miserable  bola. 
Miserable  bola  f  Yes !  There  operate  In  it  as 
many  passions  as  there  are  men  and  leaders  en- 
gaged ;  in  the  one  it  Is  avenging  ruin ;  in  the  other  a 
mean  ambition;  In  this  one  the  desire  to  figure;  in 
that  one  to  gain  a  victory  over  an  enemy.  And 
there  is  not  a  single  common  thought,  not  a  prin- 
ciple which  gives  strength  to  consciences.  Its  the- 
atre is  the  corner  of  some  outlying  district;  its 
heroes,  men  who  perhaps  at  first  accepting  it  In 
good  faith,  permit  that  which  they  had  to  be  torn 
to  tatters  on  the  briers  of  the  forest.  Honorable 
labor  is  suspended,  the  fields  are  laid  waste,  the 
groves  are  set  on  fire,  homes  are  despoiled,  at  the 
mere  dictate  of  some  brutal  petty  leader;  tears, 
despair,  and  famine  are  the  final  harvest.  And 
yet  the  population,  when  this  favorite  monster,  to 
which  it  has  given  birth,  appears,  rushes  after  it, 
crying  enthusiastically  and  Insanely,  bola!  bola! 

THE  INDEPENDENT  PRESS. 

Albar  came  down  into  the  editorial  room  and, 
approaching  me,  picked  up,  one  by  one,  the  yet 
fresh  sheets.     He  was  satisfied,  extremely  so. 

"  Very  good,"  he  said  to  me,  "  this  will  cause 
a  sensation,  and  will  exalt  your  name  yet  more. 
Attack  fearlessly." 


EMILIO   RABASA.  385 

At  twelve,  he  called  me  up  to  his  writing-room, 
not  without  my  feeling  a  strange  fear,  presentiment 
of  danger. 

"  I  want  you  to  take  one  matter  on  yourself,"  he 
said,  "  because  this  Escorroza  Is  of  no  use  some- 
times. Besides,  I  know  you  are  from  the  State  of 
X and  I  suppose  you  know  Its  men.  Its  his- 
tory, Its  conditions,  better  than  anyone  else  on  the 
force." 

"  I  think  so,"  I  replied,  trembling. 

"  It  is  so,"  affirmed  Albar.  "  Put  special  care 
on  the  articles  relative  to  the  matter,  to  which  I 
refer;  because  it  is  of  importance  to  me  and  I  en- 
trust It  to  you  because  you  are  the  best  man  on  the 
staff." 

"  You  are  very  kind " 

"  Not  at  all;  it  is  mere  justice " 

"  And  the  matter " 

"  In  a  moment,  in  a  moment;  you  shall  hear." 

The  Interest  of  the  Director  must  indeed  be 
great,  when  he  was  so  friendly  and  courteous  with 
me.  His  dark  skin  wrinkled  more  violently  and 
a  forced  smile  Incessantly  contracted  his  lips, 
separating  yet  more  widely  from  each  other,  the 
two  halves  of  his  typically  Indian  moustache. 

We  heard,  sounding  in  the  patio,  the  footsteps 
of  several  persons.  My  suspicions  had  grown 
with  Albar's  words,  my  fears  increased,  and  that 
noise  caused  me  such  disturbance  that  I  was  forced 
to  rise  from  the  sofa  to  conceal  it. 


386  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

In  spite  of  my  efforts  to  control  myself,  I  felt 
that  I  turned  pale,  when  Don  Mateo  entered  the 
room,  accompanied  by  Bueso  and  Escorroza.  In- 
stinctively, I  stepped  back  a  step  or  two  and 
appeared  to  occupy  myself  with  something  lying 
on  the  table. 

Don  Mateo  awkwardly  saluted  Albar,  with 
scant  courtesy,  and  passed  with  him  and  Bueso  into 
an  adjoining  room.  As  he  passed  near  me,  I 
noticed  that  the  General  looked  at  me  and  hesitated 
a  moment  as  if  he  wished  to  stop.  Albar,  who 
went  last,  indicated  to  Escorroza,  by  a  sign,  that 
he  might  retire,  and  when  he,  in  turn,  repeated 
the  signal  to  me,  Albar  said,  shortly,  "  Wait  here; 
I  will  call  you." 

Escorroza  withdrew,  casting  at  me  a  glance  of 
terrible  hatred,  which  in  some  degree  compensated 
me  for  my  anxieties,  by  the  vain  satisfaction  it 
caused  me;  but,  hearing  the  first  phrases  exchanged 
between  the  three  men,  I  understood  at  once  that 
Pepe  was  right  in  telling  me  that  I  had  lost  my 
cause.  I  should  have  fled  from  the  place,  on  feel- 
ing myself  so  completely  routed,  at  comprehend- 
ing the  event  and  its  significance  to  me;  but,  I  know 
not  what  painful  desire  to  know  the  end,  held  me, 
as  if  bound,  to  the  chair  in  which  I  had  seated 
myself  near  the  door. 

At  first  Don  Mateo  himself  desired  to  present 
the  matter;  but  his  rustic  awkwardness,  little  suited 
to  the  presentation  of  so  diflicult  a  matter,  over- 


EMILIO   RABASA.  387 

came  him,  and  it  was  necessary  that  Bueso  should 
take  up  the  conversation  for  him. 

For  some  minutes  his  tranquil,  unvarying,  and 
unemotional  voice  was  heard;  for  him,  no  matter 
was  difficult  of  presentation,  no  circumlocutions 
were  necessary  to  express  the  most  delicate  affairs. 
The  General  had  seen,  with  surprise,  a  paragraph 
in  El  Cuarto  Poder  which  demanded  evidence 
proving  what  El  Lábaro  had  stated  concerning 
him;  that  his  surprise  was  the  greater  from  the  fact 
that  he  had  before  considered  Albar  as  his  friend, 
although  they  had  had  merely  business  relations 
through  correspondence.  All  that  was  printed  in 
El  Lábaro,  and  much  more,  was  true,  as  could  be 
testified  by  thousands  of  persons,  who  knew 
the  General  as  their  own  hands.  It  could  be 
proved  (indeed  it  could!)  with  documents  from 
State  and  Federal  governments;  with  periodicals 
of  different  epochs  which  he  had  preserved;  with 
this  and  with  that 

But,  why?  Albar  could  not  doubt  the  word 
of  a  gentleman.  The  important  matter  now  is 
that  the  eminent  Director  should  recognize  in  the 
General  a  good  friend,  and  in  place  of  raising 
doubts  in  regard  to  his  glorious  past,  should  strive, 
as  a  good  friend,  to  make  it  well  known,  appre- 
ciated, and  recompensed  by  the  applause  to  which 
a  man  so  distinguished  as  the  General  is  entitled. 
While  he  understood  this  involved  considerable 
expense,  that  was  no  obstacle. 


388  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

At  this  critical  point  Albar  interrupted  Bueso 
with  a  grunt,  which  said  neither  yes  nor  no.  It 
is  not  necessary  to  mention  that;  no,  sir.  The 
unlucky  paragraph  in  question  had  crept  into  the 
paper,  without  the  Director's  knowledge;  but,  as 
soon  as  he  discovered  it,  he  determined  to  apply  the 
remedy;  which  would  consist  in  publishing  a  com- 
plete biography  of  the  General,  stating  that  it  had 
been  written  after  inspection  of  convincing  and 
authentic  documents;  and,  even,  that  the  portrait 
of  the  General  should  be  printed  in  the  paper,  if 
he  would  have  the  kindness  to  furnish  a  photo- 
graph. 

Clouds  of  blood,  blinding  me,  passed  before  my 
eyes;  my  whole  body  trembled  convulsively;  with 
my  contracted  fingers  I  clutched  the  arms  of  the 
chair  and  dug  my  nails  into  the  velvet  upholstery. 
In  the  fury  of  my  rage  and  anger,  I  scarcely  heard 
some  words  about  thirty  subscriptions,  which  Don 
Mateo  would  send  the  following  day,  to  be  mailed 
to  his  friends  in  the  State.  Bueso  asserted  that 
this  was  important  for  the  General,  because  the 
General  was  a  man  with  a  great  political  future, 
that  he  ought,  therefore,  to  act  promptly  and  vig- 
orously, to  augment  his  prestige  and  propagate 
his  renown  everywhere. 

To  me,  nailed  to  my  chair,  that  scene  appeared 
for  some  minutes  the  horrible  illusion  of  a  cruel 
nightmare.     I  was  perspiring  and  choked. 

The  door  suddenly  opened  and  the  three  actors 


EMILIO    RABASA.  389 

in  the  comedy  entered  the  writing-room.  Trying 
to  compose  myself,  and  rising,  1  heard  Albar,  who, 
pointing  at  me,  said : 

"  Here  is  the  best  pen  on  my  staff;  this  young 
man  will  be  charged  with  writing  all  relative  to 
your  life." 

Don  Mateo  and  I  faced  each  other,  exchanging 
a  glance  of  profound  hatred;  hatred,  kneaded  with 
the  passion  of  purest  love,  as  mud  is  kneaded  with 
water  from  the  skies. 

I  knew  not  what  to  say,  much  as  I  desired  to 
speak,  but  Don  Mateo,  incapable  of  controlling 
himself,   said  insultingly: 

"  This  young  man  going  to  write?  And  what 
does  he  know?  " 

And,  filled  with  rage,  he  turned  his  back  on  me, 
pretending  to  despise  me. 

"  I  know  more  than  will  suit  you,  for  writing 
your  biography,"  I  replied,  "  but  I  warn  Señor 
Albar  that  my  pen  shall  never  be  employed  in  the 
service  of  a  man  like  you." 

Don  Mateo  made  a  motion  as  if  he  would  throw 
himself  upon  me,  and  I  made  one  as  if  seizing  a 
bust  of  bronze  to  hurl  at  him. 

Albar  leaped  between  us. 

"What  is  this?"  he  cried,  in  terror. 

"  You  are  a  miserable  puppet,"  thundered  Don 
Mateo,  shaking  his  fists  at  me  above  Albar's  head. 
"  When  I  meet  you  in  the  street  I  will  pull  your 
ears." 


390  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

"  We  shall  see,"  I  replied. 

"  Wretched,  insignificant  boy," 

"  Stop !  enough  of  this,"  cried  Albar,  with  all 
the  force  of  his  lungs.     "What  is  the  matter?" 

"  Señor  Albar,"  I  said,  "  I  heard  all  that  was 
said.  I  can  write  nothing  about  this  man;  not  a 
word." 

"  Nor  will  I  permit  that  he  shall  write,"  bel- 
lowed Don  Mateo,  choked  with  rage;  "  I  will  not 
consent  to  it." 

"  Then  he  shall  not  write;  enough  said,"  replied 
Albar. 

Bueso  stood  before  me  undisturbed;  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets  he  looked  me  ov^er  with  an  air 
of  curiosity. 

"  That  means  that  Javier  will  write  it,"  he  said 
completing  Don  Pablo's  thought. 

Escorroza,  at  the  sound  of  voices,  had  come 
upstairs  and,  at  this  moment,  arrived. 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  Director,  "  let  it  be  so. 
As  Quiñones  refuses  and  the  General  does  not  con- 
sent, Escorroza  will  be  charged  with  writing  all 
relative  to " 

"To  the  Señor  General?  With  the  greatest 
pleasure,"  broke  in  Don  Javier. 

"  And  he  will  do  it  much  better,"  said  Bueso. 

Don  Mateo  looked  at  me  with  an  air  of  triumph 
and  derision. 

"  The  Señor  Director  may  order  what  seems 
best  to  him,"  I  said,  restraining  myself  with  dif- 


EMILIO   RABASA.  39  I 

ficulty,  "  but  I  ought  to  inform  him  that  I  with- 
draw from  the  staff,  the  moment  when  the  paper 
publishes  the  least  eulogy  of  this  man." 

And  without  saluting,  with  clenched  fists  and 
gritted  teeth,  I  left  the  room.  While  in  the  corri- 
dor I  heard  the  voices  of  Cabezudo,  Bueso,  and 
Escorroza,  who  cried  at  once : 

"  Canasto !  this  puppet " 

"  Talked  to  you,  in  that  manner!  " 

"  How  can  you  permit " 

The  noise  of  the  loud  voices  reached  the  edito- 
rial room.  Pepe  and  Carrasco  asked  me  what  had 
happened,  but  I  simply  shrugged  my  shoulders  and 
the  two  became  discreetly  silent. 

The  noise  continued  for  half  an  hour.  At  the 
end  of  that  time  the  footsteps  of  the  three  men 
were  heard  in  the  patio,  and  their  yet  angry  voices. 
As  they  passed  the  doorway  I  heard  them  saying : 

"  Astonishing  how  much  Don  Pablo  thinks  this 
boy  to  be !  " 

"Canasto!  recanasto!  this  I  will  never  for- 
give." 

Elevated  pride,  satisfied  hatred,  gratified  and 
exalted  vanity,  almost  choked  me  and  I  had  to  rise 
for  breath.  Pepe  and  Sabas  looked  at  me  aston- 
ished, and  I,  my  face  twitching  and  working  with 
a  nervous  smile,  threw  mv  pen  upon  the  table. 

"  This  pen  is  worth  more  than  most  persons 
imagine." 


392 


MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 


RAFAEL  DELGADO. 


Rafael  Delgado  was  born  in  Cordoba,  State  of 
Vera  Cruz,  August  20,  1853,  ^^  '^  highly  honor- 
able and  respected  family.  His  father  was  for 
many  years  the  Jefe  politico  of  Cordoba,  but  at 
the  close  of  his  service  retired  to  Orizaba.  This 
removal  was  made  when  Rafael  was  but  two 
months  old,  and  it  was  in  Orizaba  that  he  was 
reared  and  has  spent  most  of  his  life.  After  re- 
ceiving his  earlier  instruction  in  the  Colegio  de 
Nuestra  Señora   de  Guadalupe,   he  was  sent,   in 


RAFAEL    DELGADO.  393 

1865,  to  the  City  of  Mexico,  where,  however,  on 
account  of  the  turbulence  of  that  time,  he  spent 
but  one  year.  On  account  of  the  disturbances  due 
to  civil  war  his  father  lost  the  greater  part  of  his 
fortune.  In  May,  1868,  Rafael  entered  the 
Colegio  Nacional  de  Orizaba,  then  just  organized, 
where  he  completed  his  studies.  From  1875  on, 
for  a  space  of  eighteen  years,  he  was  teacher  of 
geography  and  history  in  that  institution.  The 
salary  was  so  small  and  irregular  that,  at  times,  he 
was  compelled  to  give  elementary^  instruction  in 
other  schools  in  order  to  meet  expenses.  In  his 
own  personal  studies,  outside  of  his  professional 
work,  he  was  especially  interested  in  the  drama, 
and  he  carefully  read  and  studied  the  Greek,  Latin, 
French  and  Italian  dramatists,  as  well  as  the  Span- 
ish. In  1878  he  wrote  two  dramas,  La  caja  dc 
dulces  (The  Box  of  Sweets),  prose  in  three  acts, 
and  Una  taza  de  te  (A  Cup  of  Tea)  in  verse  in  a 
single  act.  These  were  staged  and  met  a  good 
reception.  At  a  banquet  tendered  to  the  author 
after  the  first  rendering  of  La  caja  dc  dulces,  his 
friends  presented  him  a  silver  crown  and  a  gold 
pen.  In  1879,  Rafael  Delgado  published  a  trans- 
lation of  Octave  Feuillet's  J  Case  of  Conscience 
and  later  an  original  monologue  —  Antes  dc  la 
boda  (Before  the  Wedding). 

Between  the  ages  of  sixteen  and  thirty  years. 
Delgado  wrote  much  lyric  poetn»-.  Francisco  Sosa 
compares  his  work  in  this  field  with  that  of  Pesado, 


394  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

and  adds:  "Greater  commendation  cannot  be 
given."  From  the  time  when  he  was  a  student  in 
the  Colegio  Nacional  at  Orizaba,  Delgado  always 
received  the  helpful  encouragement  of  his  old 
teacher,  the  head  of  that  school,  Silvestre  Moreno 
Cora.  It  was  due  to  this  truly  great  man's  efforts 
that  the  Sociedad  Sánchez  Oropeza  was  founded 
in  Orizaba,  in  the  literary  section  of  which  Rafael 
Delgado  was  active.  At  this  society  he  gave  a 
series  of  brilliant  Conversaciones  and  to  its  Bulletin 
he  contributed  both  prose  and  verse.  He  has  writ- 
ten Cuentos  (Tales)  of  excellence,  showing  the 
influence  of  Daudet.  More  important,  however, 
than  his  lyric  poems  and  his  stories,  are  Delgado's 
novels,  three  in  number.  La  Calandria,  Angelina, 
Los  parientes  ricos  (Rich  Relations).  In  fiction 
he  is  a  realist.  He  prefers  to  deal  with  the  com- 
mon people;  he  is  ever  a  poet  in  form  and  spirit; 
his  satire  is  never  bitter;  beauty  in  nature  ever  ap- 
peals strongly  to  him.  Without  being  a  servile  imi- 
tator, he  has  been  influenced  by  Daudet  and  the 
Goncourts.  His  plots  are  simple  —  almost  noth- 
ing. In  regard  to  this,  he  himself,  in  speaking  of 
Los  parientes  ricos,  says :  "  Plot  does  not  enter 
much  into  my  plan.  It  is  true  that  it  gives  interest 
to  a  novel,  but  it  usually  distracts  the  mind  from 
the  truth.  For  me  the  novel  is  history,  and  thus 
does  not  always  have  the  machinery  and  arrange- 
ment of  the  spectacular  drama.  In  my  judgment 
it  ought  to  be  the  artistic  copy  of  the  truth;  some- 


RAFAEL    DELGADO.  395 

what,  that  is,  as  history,  a  fine  art.  I  have  desired 
that  Los  parientes  ricos  should  be  something  of 
that  sort;  an  exact  page  from  Mexican  life." 

In  Calandria,  the  story  opens  with  the  death  of 
Guadalupe,  an  abandoned  woman,  poor  and  con- 
sumptive. The  man  of  wealth,  who  betrayed  her, 
has  a  lovely  home  and  a  beautiful  daughter.  Car- 
men, "the  Calandria,"  as  she  is  nicknamed  by  those 
about  her  on  account  of  her  singing,  the  illegiti- 
mate daughter  of  Don  Eduardo  by  Guadalupe,  is 
left  in  poverty.  An  appeal,  made  in  her  behalf, 
by  a  priest  to  Don  Eduardo  fails  to  secure  her  full 
recognition  and  reception  into  his  home,  but  leads 
to  his  arranging  for  her  care  in  the  tenement  where 
she  lives  and  where  Guadalupe  died.  An  old 
woman.  Doña  Pancha,  who  had  been  kind  to  her 
mother,  receives  the  orphan  into  her  home.  Her 
son,  Gabriel,  an  excellent  young  man,  a  cabinet- 
maker by  trade,  loves  her,  and  she  reciprocates  his 
love.  A  neighbor  in  the  tenement,  Magdalena, 
exerts  an  unhappy  influence  upon  Carmen,  leading 
to  estrangement  between  her  and  Dona  Pancha. 
Magdalena  encourages  her  to  receive  the  atten- 
tions of  a  worthless  and  vicious,  wealthy  youth 
named  Rosas.  At  a  dance  given  In  Magdalena's 
room,  Rosas  is  attentive,  and  Carmen,  flattered 
and  dazzled,  is  guilty  of  some  indiscretions.  This 
leads  to  a  rupture  between  her  and  Gabriel.  To 
escape  the  persecutions  of  Rosas,  Carmen  goes 
with  the  friendly  priest  to  a  retreat  at  some  little 


396  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

distance.  The  troubles  between  the  lovers  ap- 
proach adjustment,  but  at  the  critical  moment 
Rosas  appears  upon  the  scene,  and  the  girl,  though 
she  rejects  him,  Is  compromised.  Gabriel  stifles 
his  love  and  actually  casts  her  off.  In  despair,  the 
girl  yields  to  the  appeals  of  Rosas,  who  promises 
marriage.  He  is  false,  and  soon  tiring,  abandons 
her.  From  then  her  downward  career  is  rapid 
and  soon  ends  in  suicide. 

EXTRACTS    FROM    CALANDRIA. 

And  she  sighed  and  spent  long  hours  in  gazing 
at  the  landscape;  attentive  to  the  rustling  of  the 
trees,  to  the  flitting  to  and  fro  of  the  butterflies,  to 
the  echoes  of  the  valley,  which  repeated,  sono- 
rously, the  regular  stroke  of  the  woodman's  axe, 
to  the  rushing  of  the  neighboring  stream,  to  the 
cooing  of  the  turtle-dove  living  in  the  neighboring 
Cottonwood. 

I  need  to  be  loved  and  Gabriel  has  despised  me. 
I  need  to  be  happy  and  cannot  because  Gabriel, 
my  Gabriel,  is  offended.  He  has  repulsed  me,  he 
has  refused  my  caresses,  he  has  not  cared  for  my 
kisses.  I  desire  to  be  happy  as  this  sparrow, 
graceful  and  coquettish,  which  nests  in  this  orange 
tree.  How  she  chirps  and  flutters  her  wings  when 
she  sees  her  mate  coming.  I  cannot  forget  what 
took  place  that  night.  Never  did  I  love  him  more, 
never!     I  was  going  to  confess  all  to  him,  repent- 


RAFAEL    DELGADO.  397 

ant,  resolved  to  end  completely  with  Alberto,  to 
say  to  Gabriel:  "I  did  this;  pardon  me!  Are 
you  noble,  generous,  do  you  love  me?  Pardon 
me !  I  do  not  covet  riches,  nor  conveniences,  nor 
elegance.  Are  you  poor?  Poor,  I  love  you. 
Are  you  of  humble  birth?  So,  I  love  you!  Par- 
don me,  Gabriel !  See  how  I  adore  you  !  I  have 
erred  —  I  have  ofiended  you  —  I  forgot  that  my 
heart  was  yours.  Take  pity  on  this  poor  orphan, 
who  has  no  one  to  counsel  her.  Pardon  me! 
You  are  good,  very  good,  are  you  not?  Forget 
all,  forget  it,  Gabriel.  See,  I  am  worthy  of  you. 
I  do  not  love  this  man ;  I  do  not  love  him.  I  told 
him  I  loved  him  because  I  did  not  know  what  to 
do.  I  let  him  give  me  a  kiss  because  I  could 
not  prevent  it.  Forgive  me !  And  he  appears  to 
be  of  iron.  He  showed  himself  haughty,  proud, 
and  cruel  as  a  tiger.  But,  he  was  right;  he  loved 
me,  and  I  had  offended  him.  One  kiss?  Yes  — 
and  what  is  a  kiss?  Air,  nothing!  I  wanted  to 
calm  his  annoyance,  sweetly,  with  my  caresses,  and 
I  could  not.  Weeping,  I  begged  him  to  pardon 
me,  and  he  refused.  I  said  to  him  —  resolved  to 
all  —  what  more  could  I  do?  —  I  said  to  him, 
here  you  have  me  —  I  am  yours  —  do  with  me 
what  you  will !  And,  he  remained  mute,  reserved, 
did  not  look  at  me.  He  did  not  see  me;  he  did 
not  speak  to  me,  but  I  read  distrust,  contempt,  re- 
strained rage,  in  his  face.  He  almost  insulted  me. 
If  he  had  not  loved  me  so  much,   I  believe  he 


398  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

would  have  killed  me  1  Again  I  tried  to  conquer 
him  with  my  caresses.  I  wished  to  give  him  a 
kiss  —  and  he  repulsed  me !  Ah,  Gabriel  I  How 
much  you  deceive  yourself!  How  self-satisfied 
you  are !  You  are  poor,  of  humble  birth,  an  arti- 
san —  and  you  have  the  pride  of  a  king !  Thus 
I  love  you,  thus  I  have  loved  you.  Haughty, 
proud,  indomitable,  thus  I  would  wish  you  for  my 
love!  I  would  have  softened  your  character;  I 
would  have  dominated  your  pride;  I  would  have 
conquered  you  with  my  kisses.  You  love  me,  but 
my  tears  have  not  moved  you  I  You  are  strong 
and  boast  of  your  strength,  for  which  I  adore  you ! 
You  are  generous,  and  yet  you  do  not  know  how  to 
pardon  a  weak  woman !  And  we  would  have  been 
happy.     One  word  from  you  and  nothing  morel 

If  it  were  still  possible  —  and  —  why  not? 
*  *  *  * 

But,  when  he  heard  from  the  mouth  of  Ange- 
lito that  Carmen  had  responded  to  the  gallantries 
of  Rosas,  when  the  boy  described  the  scene  which 
he  had  witnessed,  and  in  which,  yielding  to  the 
desires  of  Alberto,  the  orphan  had  permitted  her- 
self to  be  kissed,  the  very  heavens  seemed  to  fall ; 
he  raged  at  seeing  his  love  mocked  and  dragged 
in  the  mud,  and  promptly  told  Doña  Pancha  all 
he  had  learned.  The  old  woman  strove  to  calm 
him ;  made  just  remarks  about  Carmen's  origin,  tell- 
ing him  that  she  might  have  inherited  the  tendency 
to  evil  from  her  mother  and  the  desire  for  luxury, 


RAFAEL    DELGADO.  399 

which  had  been  her  perdition;  she  begged  him  to 
cut  completely  loose  from  the  orphan,  and,  fearful 
that  he  might,  after  the  first  impression  caused  by 
what  Angelito  described  had  passed,  involve  him- 
self in  humiliating  love  entanglements,  appealed  to 
her  son's  generous  sentiments,  not  to  again  think 
of  the  girl.     And  she  succeeded. 

Gabriel  armed  himself  with  courage  and  ful- 
filled his  promise.  Hard,  most  cruel,  was  the  in- 
terview; his  heart  said:  pardon  her.  Offended 
dignity  cried:  despise  her.  Love  repeated:  she 
loves  you;  is  repentant,  have  pity  on  her;  see  ho'vo 
you  are  trifling  ivith  your  dearest  illusions,  iiith  all 
your  hopes;  but  in  his  ears  resounded  his  mother's 
voice,  tender,  trembling  with  sympathy,  supplicat- 
ing, sad,  Gabriel,  my  hoy,  if  you  love  me,  if  you 
ivish  to  repay  me  for  all  my  cares,  if  you  are  a  good 
son,  forget  her!  He  loved  her  and  he  ought  not 
to  love  her.  He  wanted  to  despise  her,  to  offend 
her,  to  outrage  her,  but  he  could  not.  He  loved 
her  so  much!  Wounded  self-esteem  said  with 
stern  and  imperious  accent:  leave  her. 

When  the  cabinetmaker  left  his  home  that  night, 
wishing  to  escape  from  his  grief,  almost  repenting 
what  he  had  done,  wandering  aimlessly,  he  jour- 
neyed through  street  after  street,  without  note  of 
distance.  The  main  street  of  the  city,  broad  and 
endless,  lay  before  him,  with  its  crooked  line  of 
lamps  on  either  side,  obscure  and  dismal  In  the 
distance.     So  the  future  looks  to  us,  when  we  are 


400  MODERN   MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

victims  of  some  unhappy  disappointment,  which 
shakes  the  soul  as  a  cataclysm, —  with  not  a  light 
of  counsel,  not  a  ray  of  hope  on  the  horizon. 

He  arrived  at  the  end  of  the  city  and  on  seeing 
the  broad  cart-road  that  began  there,  passed  a 
bridge,  at  the  foot  of  a  historic  hill ;  he  felt  tempted 
to  undertake  an  endless  journey  to  distant  lands, 
where  no  one  knew  him;  to  flee  from  Pluviosilla, 
that  city  fatal  to  his  happiness,  forever.  But,  he 
thought  —  my  mother? 

The  river  flowed  serene,  silent.  The  cabinet- 
maker, with  his  elbow  on  the  hand-rail  of  the 
bridge,  contemplated  the  black  current  of  the  river; 
the  great  plain  which  lost  Itself  In  the  frightful 
shadow  of  the  open  country.  A  sentiment  of  gen- 
tle melancholy,  consoling  and  soothing,  came  over 
his  soul.  Meantime,  the  more  he  dwelt  on  his 
misfortune,  the  more  desolate  appeared  his  life's 
horizon,  and  something  akin  to  that  sad  homesick- 
ness, which  he  experienced  in  his  soul,  when  the 
maiden  first  said  to  him,  /  love  you,  passed  like  a 
refreshing  wave  through  his  soul.  The  abyss  at 
his  feet  attracted  him,  called  him.  What  did 
Gabriel  think  In  those  moments?  Who  can 
know?  "No!"  he  murmured,  turning  and  tak- 
ing his  way  to  the  city. 

The  next  day,  he  told  Doña  Pancha  In  a  few 
words  what  had  happened  and  then  said  no  more 
of  the  matter.  In  vain  Tacho,  Soils,  and  López 
questioned  him,  on  various  occasions.     He  did  not 


RAFAEL   DELGADO.  401 

again  mention  Carmen.  He  learned  that  she  had 
left  Pluviosilla,  but  made  no  effort  to  learn  where 
she  had  gone;  and,  not  because  he  had  forgotten 
her,  but  because  he  had  resolved  never  to  speak  of 
her  again.  The  journeyman  and  Doña  Pancha 
repeated  to  him  the  conversation  of  Alberto  and 
his  friends,  what  they  said  of  the  planned  elope- 
ment, but  he  scarcely  deigned  to  listen,  and  an- 
swered with  a  scornful  and  profoundly  sad  smile. 

When  Angelito  found  him  and  told  him  that 
Carmen  was  at  Xochiapan,  repeating  all  that  she 
had  said,  he  hung  his  head  as  if  he  sought  his 
answer  on  the  ground,  and  exclaimed : 

"  Say  you  have  not  seen  me.  No  —  tell  her 
that  I  beg  she  will  not  think  of  me  again." 

And  he  turned  away,  disdainful  and  sad. 


The  young  man  placed  himself  in  a  good  posi- 
tion, resolved  to  hear  the  mass  with  the  utmost  de- 
votion ;  but  he  could  not  do  it.  There,  near  by,  was 
Carmen ;  there  was  the  woman  for  whom  he  would 
have  given  all  that  he  had,  even  to  his  life.  He 
did  not  wish  to  see  her,  and  yet  did  nothing  else. 
He  turned  his  face  toward  the  altar,  and  without 
knowing  how,  when  he  least  expected  it,  found  his 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  maiden,  whose  graceful  head, 
covered  with  a  rebozo,  did  not  remain  still  an  in- 
stant, turning  to  all  sides,  in  search  of  him. 
Gabriel  remained  concealed  behind  the  statue  of 


402  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

San  Ysidro  which,  placed  on  a  table,  surrounded  by 
candles  and  great  sprays  of  paper  roses,  served 
him  as  a  screen. 

Why  had  he  come?  Was  he  determined  to 
reunite  the  interrupted  loves?  Would  he  yield  to 
Carmen's  wishes?  He  had  come  to  look  at  her, 
not  desiring  to  see  her;  he  had  come  to  Xochiapan 
dragged  by  an  irresistible  power,  but  he  would 
not  yield.  How  could  he  blot  out  of  his  memory 
that  kiss,  that  thundered  kiss,  which  he  had  not 
heard  but,  which,  nevertheless  resounded  for  him 
like  an  injury,  like  an  insulting  word  which  de- 
mands blood?  And  yet  he  had  seen  her;  there  she 
was,  near  him,  never  so  beautiful. 

At  the  close  of  the  service,  at  the  ite  misa  est, 
Gabriel  left  promptly,  so  that  when  the  faithful 
flocked  out  to  the  market-place,  he  was  mounting 
his  horse.  On  crossing  the  plaza,  he  met  some 
rancheros,  his  friends,  who  invited  him  to  drink 
a  cup  and  then  to  eat  at  the  ranch,  which  was  not 
far  distant.  He  accepted;  it  was  necessary  to  dis- 
tract himself.  To  leave  the  plaza,  on  the  way  to 
the  house  of  his  friends,  it  was  necessary  to  pass 
along  one  side  of  the  church;  almost  between  the 
lines  of  vendors. 

The  Cura,  Doña  Mercedes,  Angelito  and  Car- 
men were  in  the  graveyard.  Gabriel  did  not  wish 
nor  dare  to  greet  his  love ;  he  turned  his  face  away, 
but  could  see  and  feel  the  gaze  of  those  dark 


RAFAEL   DELGADO.  403 

eyes  fixed  upon  him,  a  gaze  profoundly  sad  which 
pierced  his  heart. 

After  dinner  he  returned  to  the  town  to  take 
the  road  to  Pluvlosllla.  His  friends  proposed  to 
accompany  him,  but  he  refused  their  offer.  He 
wished  to  be  alone,  alone,  to  meditate  upon  the 
thought  which  for  hours  had  pursued  him. 

She  loves  me  —  he  was  thinking  as  he  entered 
the  town. —  She  loves  me!  Poor  child!  I 
have  been  cruel  to  her. —  I  ought  to  forgive 
her. —  Why  not?  I  will  be  generous.  I  will 
forgive  all. 

The  energetic  resolutions  of  the  young  man  be- 
came a  sentiment  of  tender  compassion.  His  dig- 
nity and  pride,  of  which  he  gave  such  grand  ex- 
amples a  month  before,  yielded  now  to  the  im- 
pulses of  his  heart.  He  could  resist  no  longer. 
Carmen  triumphed;  love  triumphed. 

I  will  speak  with  her;  yes,  I  will  speak  with  her; 
I  will  tell  her  that  I  love  her  with  all  my  soul; 
that  I  cannot  forget  her;  that  I  cannot  live  with- 
out her!  I  will  tell  her  that  I  pardon;  that  we 
shall  again  be  happy.      Poor  child!     She  is  pale, 

ill .     I  do  not  wish  to  increase  her  unhap- 

piness. 

At  the  end  of  the  street,  through  which  at  the 
moment  he  was  passing,  the  cabinet-maker  saw  two 
men  on  horseback,  one  on  an  English,  the  other 
on  a  Mexican  saddle.  Apparently,  people  of  Plu- 
viosilla. 


404  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

The  riders  stopped  a  square  away  from  the  Cu- 
racy. The  one  dressed  in  charro,  dismounted  and 
cautiously  advanced  along  the  hedge.  A  terrible 
suspicion  flashed  through  the  young  man's  mind. 
He  quickly  recognized  the  cautious  individual. 
While  this  person  was  going  along  on  tiptoe,  as  if 
awaiting  a  signal  to  approach,  Gabriel  took  the 
lane  to  the  right,  then  turned  to  the  left  and  passed 
slowly  in  front  of  the  window  of  the  Curacy,  at 
the  moment  when  Rosas  was  speaking  with  Carmen 
at  the  grating. 

His  first  idea  was  to  kill  his  rival  like  a  dog 
and  then  the  infamous  woman  who  was  thus  de- 
ceiving him  —  but  —  he  was  unarmed.  He  cursed 
his  bad  luck,  hesitated  a  moment,  between  re- 
maining and  going,  and,  at  last,  whipping  up  his 
horse,  went  almost  at  a  gallop,  by  the  Pluviosilla 
road. 


FEDERICO   GAMBOA. 


405 


FEDERICO  GAMBOA. 


Federico  Gamboa  was  born  in  the  City  of  Mex- 
ico, December  22,  1864.  After  his  elementary 
studies  he  attended  the  Escuela  Nacional  Prepara- 
toria (National  Preparatory  School),  for  five 
years,  and  the  Escula  de  Jurisprudencia  (Law 
School)  for  three  more.  After  an  examination, 
he  entered  the  Mexican  Diplomatic  Corps,  October 
9,  1888,  and  was  sent  to  Guatemala  in  the  capacity 
of  Second  Secretary  of  the  Mexican  Legation  in 
Central  America,  In  1890,  he  was  appointed 
First  Secretary  of  the  Mexican  Legation  to  Ar- 


406  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

gentina  and  Brazil.  In  1896,  he  returned  to  Mex- 
ico, where  he  remained  until  the  end  of  1898,  as 
Chief  of  the  Division  of  Chancery  of  the  De- 
partment of  Foreign  Affairs.  He  was  then  sent 
again  to  Guatemala,  as  Charge-d' affaires.  In  De- 
cember, 1902,  he  was  appointed  Secretary  of  the 
Mexican  Embassy  at  Washington,  which  position 
he  now  holds. 

Through  the  year  1898,  Señor  Gamboa  was 
Lecturer  on  the  History  of  Geographical  Discovery 
in  the  Escuela  Nacional  Preparatoria.  From  1886 
to  1888,  inclusive,  he  was  engaged  in  newspaper 
work  in  the  City  of  of  Mexico.  In  June,  1888, 
he  presented  on  the  Mexican  stage  a  Spanish  trans- 
lation of  the  Parisian  operetta,  M am' selle  Nitoiiche, 
under  the  title.  La  Señorita  Inocencia  (Miss  Inno- 
cence). In  1889,  he  presented  a  translation  La 
Moral  Eléctrica  (Electric  morality)  of  a  French 
vaudeville.  Besides  these  translations.  Señor  Gam- 
boa  has  produced  original  dramatic  compositions 
—  La  Ultima  Campaña  (The  Last  Campaign), 
a  three  act  drama,  and  Divertirse  (To  amuse 
oneself),  a  monologue;  these  appeared  in  1894. 
Señor  Gamboa  has  written  several  books.  Del 
Natural  —  Esbozos  Contemporáneos  (Contempo- 
rary Sketches:  from  nature)  was  published  when 
he  was  first  in  Guatemala  and  has  gone  through 
three  editions.  Apariencias  (Appearances) ,  a  novel, 
was  published  while  he  was  at  Buenos  Ayres,  in 
1892.    hnpresiones  y  Recuerdos  (Impressions  and 


FEDERICO   GAMBOA.  407 

Recollections)  appeared  in  1894.  Three  novels, 
which  have  been  well  received  are  Suprema  Ley 
(The  Supreme  Law),  1895,  Metamorfosis  (Met- 
amorphosis), 1899,  and  5^«/iZ,  1900.  At  present 
Señor  Gamboa  is  writing  a  new  novel  Reconquista 
(Reconquest)  and  his  biographical  Mi  Diario 
(My  Journal),  the  latter  in  three  volumes. 

As  may  be  seen  from  this  brief  sketch  Señor 
Gamboa  has  been  a  considerable  traveler.  He 
has  made  two  European  journeys,  has  twice  vis- 
ited Africa,  and  has  traveled  over  America  from 
Canada  to  Argentina.  He  lived  in  New  York  in 
1880  and  188 1  and  holds  a  city  schools  certificate 
for  elementary  teaching.  He  was  elected  a  Cor- 
responding Member  of  the  Royal  Spanish  Acad- 
emy in  1889,  an  officer  of  the  French  Academy 
in  1900,  and  a  Knight  Commander  of  Carlos  III 
in  1901. 

In  Suprema  hey  we  have  a  tale  of  common  life. 
Julio  Ortegal  is  a  poor  court  clerk,  of  good  ideals, 
decent,  married,  and  the  father  of  six  children. 
His  wife  Carmen  is  hard-working,  a  good  wife 
and  a  devoted  mother.  Clothilde,  well-born  and 
well-bred  is  a  native  of  Mazatlan,  where  she  be- 
comes infatuated  with  a  young  man  named  Alberto ; 
they  live  together  and,  on  the  discovery  of  dis- 
honest dealings  on  his  part,  flee  to  the  interior  and 
to  the  City  of  Mexico,  where  he  suicides.  Clo- 
thilde, suspected  of  his  murder,  is  thrown  into 
jail;   there  she  meets  Julio,   in  the   discharge   of 


408  MODERN   MEXICAN  AUTHORS. 

his  duties,  whose  kindness  awakens  her  gratitude. 
After  her  acquittal,  her  father,  who  does  not  wish 
her  return  to  Mazatlan,  arranges,  through  Julio, 
for  her  support  in  Mexico.  She  goes  first  to  Ju- 
lio's home  and,  later,  to  a  hired  house.  Julio's 
love  for  her  is  kindled;  it  grows  during  the  time 
she  lives  in  his  house  and  is  the  real  cause  of  her 
removal.  He  finally  abandons  wife  and  children 
although  he  still  turns  over  his  regular  earnings 
at  court  to  their  support,  working  nights  at  a  the- 
atre for  his  own  necessities.  Meantime,  consump- 
tion, from  which  he  has  long  suffered,  continues  its 
ravages.  Clothllde's  parents,  who  can  no  longer 
endure  her  absence,  finally  send  her  aunt  to  bear 
their  pardon  and  implore  her  return.  Clothilde, 
repentant,  casts  off  Julio  and  returns  to  Mazatlan. 
He  is  furious,  crushed;  but  repentant  he  determines 
to  rejoin  his  abandoned  wife  and  family;  his  old 
and  normal  love  revives,  but  in  that  moment,  he 
dies. 

EXTRACTS   FROM  SUPREMA   LEY. 

Julito  no  longer  resisted  and  he  also  lay  down  to 
sleep;  he  would  make  his  aunt's  acquaintance  in 
the  morning.  Carmen,  sitting  by  the  spread  ta- 
ble, solitary  and  silent,  after  the  fatiguing  day, 
could  not  sleep. 

She  was  thinking . 

Through  her  thoughts  passed  vague   fears  of 


FEDERICO   GAMBOA.  409 

coming  misfortunes  and  dangers;  of  a  radical 
change  in  her  existence.  Her  poor  brain,  of  a 
vulgar  and  unintellectual  woman,  performed  prod- 
igies in  analyzing  the  unfounded  presentiments; 
what  did  she  fear?  On  what  did  she  base  these 
fears?  While  she  attempted  to  define  them  they 
weakened,  though  they  still  persisted.  She  re- 
viewed her  whole  life  of  hard  struggle  and  scanty 
rewards;  she  examined  her  conduct  as  an  honorable 
wife  and  a  decent  mother  of  a  family,  and  neither 
the  one  nor  the  other,  justified  her  fear.  This 
stranger  woman,  this  stranger  who  was  about  to 
come;  would  she  rob  her  of  something?  Of 
what?  Her  children?  Surely,  no.  Of  her  hus- 
band, perhaps?  Her  presentiment  was  founded 
in  this  doubt;  yes,  it  was  only  of  her  husband  that 
she  could  rob  her.  And  her  humble  idyl  of  lov^e, 
which  she  had  cherished  among  the  ancient  things 
of  her  memory,  as  she  cherished  in  her  clothes- 
press  some  few  artificial  flowers,  shriveled  and  yel- 
lowed, from  her  bridal  crown,  her  idyl  revived, 
shriveled  and  yellowed  also,  but  demanding  an  ab- 
solute fidelity  in  Julio;  not  equal  to  her  own;  no, 
Julio's  fidelity  had  to  be  different,  but  it  must  be; 
but,  however  much  Carmen  assured  herself,  with 
the  mute  assurances  of  her  will,  that  Julio  was 
faithful,  she  continued  to  be  possessed  by  the  idea 
that  he  would  sometime  prove  unfaithful,  just  be- 
cause of  the  long  period  of  their  marriage,  that 
cruel   irony  of  the  years   which   respect   nothing, 


4IO  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

neither  a  loving  marriage  nor  the  hearth  which 
belonged  to  us  in  infancy;  the  marital  affection  is 
choked  by  the  ivy  of  disgust  and  the  bind-weed  of 
custom;  the  home  disappears  covered  by  the  weeds, 
which  grow  and  grow  until  they  overtop  the  very 
pinnacle  of  the  fagade.  Carmen  then  appreciated 
some  things  before  not  understood;  all  the  little 
repugnances  and  the  shrinking  apart  of  two  bodies, 
which  had  long  lived  in  contact  and  no  longer 
have  surprises  to  exchange,  no  new  sensations  to 
offer,  no  curves  that  are  not  known,  no  kisses  that 
are  unlike  those  other  kisses,  those  of  sweethearts 
and  the  newly-wed,  then  novel  and  celestial,  after- 
ward repeated  without  enthusiasm  as  a  faint  mem- 
ory of  those  gone  never  to  return.  Believing  that 
Julio  was  yet  in  word  and  deed  her  own,  she  re- 
solved to  carry  on  a  slow  reconquest,  displaying 
the  charms  of  a  chaste  coquetry;  her  instincts  of 
a  woman,  assuring  her  that  this  was  the  infallible 
mode  of  salvation. 

But  on  considering  her  attractions  marred  by 
child-bearing;  her  features  sharpened  by  vicissi- 
tude; her  hands,  the  innocent  pride  of  her  girlhood, 
deformed  by  cooking  and  washing;  she  felt  two 
tears  burn  her  eyeballs  and,  unable  to  gain  in  a 
contest  of  graces  and  attractions,  her  face  fell 
upon  the  table,  supported  by  her  arms,  in  silent 
grief  for  her  lost  youth  and  her  perished  beauty. 
*  ♦  *  * 

At  two  o'clock   in   the  morning  there   was  a 


FEDERICO   GAMBOA.  41I 

knocking  at  the  gate  and  then  at  her  door.  It  was 
they,  Clothilde  and  Julio. 

"  Carmen,  the  Señora  Granada." 

They  embraced,  without  speaking;  Clothilde, 
because  gratitude  sealed  her  hps;  Carmen,  because 
she  could  not. 

The  supper  was  disagreeable;  the  dishes  were 
cold,  the  servant  sleepy,  those  at  the  table  watching 
one  another. 

When,  in  the  silence  of  the  night  and  of  the 
sleeping  house,  Julio  realized  the  magnitude  of 
what  he  had  done,  he  read,  yes,  he  read  in  the 
darkness  of  the  room,  the  fatal  and  human  biblical 
sentence,  and  began  to  understand  its  meaning: 

"  The  woman  shall  draw  thee,  where  she  will, 
with  only  a  hair  of  her  head." 


Clothilde's  first  impulse  was  to  conceal  herself; 
to  tell  her  servant  that  she  was  not  accustomed 
to  receive  evening  visits;  but,  besides  the  fact  that 
Julio  had  certainly  already  seen  her,  the  truth  is 
that  she  felt  pleasure,  a  sort  of  consolation  and 
discreet  satisfaction.  Thank  God  the  test  was 
about  to  commence ;  she  was  about  to  prove  to  her- 
self the  strength  of  her  resolution. 

Julio,  now  nearer,  saluted,  lifting  his  hat;  Clo- 
thilde answered  with  a  wave  of  the  hand,  in  all 
confidence,  as  two  friends  ought  to  salute.  She 
waited   for  him  smilingly,  without  changing  her 


412  MODERN   MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

place  or  posture,  determined  not  only  to  show  a 
lack  of  love  but  even  of  undue  friendliness.  Julio, 
paler  than  usual,  crossed  the  threshold. 

"Bravo,  Señor  Ortegal,  this  is  friendly;  come 
in  and  I  will  give  you  a  cup  of  coffee." 

Julio  gave  her  his  hand  with  extraordinary  emo- 
tion and  looked  searchingly  into  her  eyes  as  if  to 
read  her  thoughts.  Clothilde,  scenting  danger, 
led  the  way  to  the  dining-room.  How  were  they 
all  at  home?  Carmen  and  the  children?  Do 
they  miss  her  a  little  ? 

Julio  promptly  answered  that  all  were  well,  all 
well  but  himself,  and  that  is  her  fault,  Clothilde's. 

"My  fault?" 

"  Yes,  your  fault.  And  I  ought  to  have  spoken 
with  you  alone,  long  ago."  And,  saying  this  he 
covered  his  face  with  his  hands. 

The  coffee-pot  boiled  noisily ;  the  servant  placed 
two  cups  upon  the  table  and  Clothilde,  not  en- 
tirely prepared,  because  she  had  not  counted  upon 
so  abrupt  an  attack,  betook  herself  to  her  armory 
of  prayers.  She  served  the  coffee  with  a  trembling 
hand,  putting  in  two  lumps  of  sugar,  which  she 
remembered  Ortegal  always  took. 

"  Will  you  tell  me  the  truth?  "  he  burst  out. 

"  Certainly." 

Ortegal  collected  all  his  nerv^ous  energy  and 
without  taking  his  hands  from  his  face,  as  if  he  did 
not  desire  to  look  at  Clothilde,  and  poured  out  his 
words  in  a  torrent : 


FEDERICO    GAMBOA.  413 

*' Clothilde,  I  am  a  wretch  to  offend  you;  to 
dare  to  speak  to  you  as  I  do,  but  I  can  endure  it 
no  longer;  I  adore  you,  Clothilde,  I  adore  you  and 

you  know  it!     You  have  known  it Pardon 

me,  I  beg  you;  and  love  me  just  a  little  —  nothing 
more,"  he  added,  sobbing,  "  have  pity  on  my  life 
and  soul.      Do  you  love  me  sometimes?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Clothilde,  closing  her  eyes,  with 
a  transport  of  cruelty  and  the  consciousness  that 
she  caused  immense  suffering,  and  terrified  at  hav- 
ing caused  such  a  passion.  "  I  can  never  love  you 
because  I  idolize  and  will  ever  idolize  the  memory 
of  Alberto." 

When  he  heard  the  sentence,  Julio  bowed  his 
head  upon  his  arm  as  it  rested  on  the  table;  pushed 
back  the  coffee  without  tasting  it  and  rose. 

"  You  forgive  me?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Clothilde,  "  and  I  pray  God  to  cure 
you." 

"  Will  you  not  come  to  my  house?  Will  I  not 
see  you  again?"  exclaimed  Julio  with  a  sweeping 
gesture  of  his  arm  that  indicated  that  his  suffering 
was  incurable. 

"  Yes,  yes,  but  the  least  possible." 

The  two  felt  that  the  interview  was  ended;  and 
Julio  believed  himself  finally  cast  off.  As  in  all 
critical  situations,  there  was  a  tragic  silence;  Clo- 
thilde looked  at  the  floor;  Julio  gazed  at  her  with 
the  yearning  love,  with  which  the  dying  look  for 
the  last  time  upon  the   familiar  objects  and  the 


414  MODERN   MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

dear  faces,  never  so  beautiful  as  in  that  awful  mo- 
ment. Thus  he  gazed,  long,  long,  taking  her 
hand  and  kissing  it  with  the  respect  of  a  priest  for 
a  holy  thing.  Then  he  passed  the  wicket  of  the 
little  garden,  and  departed  without  once  turning 
his  head,  staggering  like  a  drunken  man;  he  was 
lost  on  the  broad  pav^ement,  his  worn  garments  of 
the  poor  office  hack,  hanging  in  the  sunlight  in  such 
folds  as  to  throw  into  relief  the  narrow  shoulders 
of  the  consumptive. 

I  am  dismissed,  he  thought,  and  I  am  glad  that 
it  was  with  a  "  no."  What  folly  to  think  that  a 
woman  like  Clothilde  could  ever  care  for  a  man 
like  me!  What  can  I  offer  her?  —  A  worthless 
trifle,  an  illegal  love,  a  legitimate  wife,  children, 
poverties !  How  could  I  pay  her  house  rent,  the 
most  necessary  expenses,  the  most  trifling  luxuries? 
Better,  much  better,  that  they  despise  me,  the  more 
I  will  occupy  myself  with  my  wife  and  my  chil- 
dren, what  is  earned  they  will  have;  I  will  return  to 
the  path  of  rectitude,  to  my  old  companion ;  I  will 
cure  myself  of  this  attack  of  love.  And  walk- 
ing, walking,  he  reached  the  Alameda,  seated  him- 
self in  the  Glorieta  of  San  Diego,  on  a  deserted 
bench,  in  front  of  two  students,  who  were  reading 
aloud. 


"  But  what  has  happened  to  you,  Señorita  ?  " 
and  the  lie  presenting  itself  for  sole  response;  the 


FEDERICO   GAMBOA.  415 

lie  which  augments  the  crime  and  the  risks  of  what 
is  foreseen.  Her  situation  was  not  new ;  the  eter- 
nal sufferings,  one  day  a  little  worse  than  another. 
Then,  in  the  little  alcove,  where  she  had  thought 
herself  strong  enough  to  resist,  the  encounter  with 
Alberto's  portrait,  a  life-size  bust  photograph,  in 
a  plain  frame,  with  an  oil  lamp  and  two  bunches 
of  violets  on  the  bureau,  upon  which  it  stood.  It 
was  there  waiting  for  her,  as  it  waited  for  her 
every  night,  to  watch  her  undressing  as  he  had  in 
life,  seated  on  the  edge  of  the  bed  or  on  a  low 
chair,  mute  with  idolatrous  admiration,  until  she 
had  completed  her  preparations,  and,  coquettish 
and  submissive,  came  to  him,  who,  with  open  arms 
and  waiting  lips  embraced  her  closely,  closely,  say- 
ing, between  kisses,  "  How  much  I  love  you." 

Clothilde  remained  leaning  against  the  bureau, 
unable  to  withdraw  her  gaze  from  the  portrait  or 
her  thought  from  what  had  just  happened.  Why 
had  she  yielded?  Why  had  she  not  screamed,  or 
drawn  the  cord  of  the  coach,  or  called  the  passers- 
by  or  the  police?  Scarcely  a  year  a  widow,  be- 
cause she  zvas  a  widow  although  the  marriage  cere- 
mony had  not  been  performed,  and  she  had  already 
forgotten  her  vows  and  promises,  and  had  already 
enshrined  within  her  heart  another  man,  who  was 
not  the  dead,  her  dead,  her  poor  dear  dead,  lying 
yonder  in  his  grave  between  two  strangers,  without 
protest  or  opposition  to  infidelity  and  perjury;  en- 
closed in  the  narrow  confines  of  the  grave,  without 


41 6  MODERN    MEXICAN   AUTHORS. 

light,  nor  air,  nor  love,  nor  life;  lost  among  so 
many  tombs,  among  so  many  faded  flowers,  among 
so  many  lies  written  in  marbles  and  bronzes.  She 
could  redeem  her  fault  with  nothing,  not  only  was 
she  not  content  to  dwell  at  the  graveside,  but  she 
had  given  herself  to  another  and  still  dared  to 
present  herself  before  his  portrait,  defying  its 
wrath.  Trembling  with  terror  she  recalled  a  mu- 
tual oath  sworn  in  those  happy  times,  when  in 
their  flight  across  half  the  Republic,  they  enjoyed 
a  relative  calm  in  hotels  and  wayside  inns.  The 
sight  of  a  country  graveyard,  peculiarly  situated, 
had  saddened  them;  with  hands  clasped,  they  were 
walking  after  supper  before  the  inn,  when  Alberto, 
affected  by  one  of  those  presentiments  which  so 
often  appear  in  the  midst  of  joy,  as  if  to  remind  us 
that  no  happiness  Is  lasting,  clasped  her  to  his 
bosom,  and  stroking  her  hair,  had  asked  her: 
*'  What  would  you  do,  If  I  should  die?  " 

She  had  answered  him  with  tears,  shuddering; 
had  stopped  his  mouth  with  her  hand;  had  prom- 
ised him,  sincerely,  with  all  her  loving  heart  and 
her  voice  broken  with  sobs,  that  she  would  die 
also,  but  Alberto  had  Insisted,  who  can  say  whether 
already  possessed  with  his  coming  suicide,  had 
begged  her  to  make  him  an  answer. 

"  Come  tell  me  what  you  will  do,  since  that 
will  not  cause  It  to  happen,  and  I  will  tell  you 
what  I  v/ould  do  if  you  should  prove  false." 

"  Why  do  you  say  such  things  ?     Why  do  you 


FEDERICO    GAMBOA.  417 

invoke  death?"  And  Alberto,  with  solemn  face 
had  replied,  what  she  had  never  since  forgotten. 
"  Because  disillusionment  and  death  are  the  two 
irreconcilable  enemies  of  life  and  one  ought  ever 
to  reckon  with  them." 

As  Clothilde  remained  silent,  Alberto,  after  dry- 
ing her  eyes,  which  were  immediately  again  filled 
with  tears,  demanded  a  solemn  oath  from  her,  not 
of  the  many  with  which  sweethearts  constantly  re- 
gale each  other,  but  of  those  which  fix  themselves 
forever,  which  impress  us  by  their  very  solemnity; 
would  she  swear  it  by  her  mother?  Would  she 
fulfil  it  whatever  happens?     Truly —  ?     If — ? 

"  Then  swear  to  me,  that  only  in  honest  wed- 
lock will  you  ever  belong  to  another  man !  " 

And  Clothilde  swore;  and  now,  before  that 
portrait  and  that  scene  as  it  rose  in  her  memory, 
she  felt  herself  criminal,  very  criminal,  lost,  and 
unhappy.  She  did  not  leave  the  bureau;  she 
could  see  the  road,  obscure  in  the  night;  she  could 
see  the  little  inn;  some  muleteers,  the  tavernkeep- 
er,  who  spoke  of  robbers,  ghosts,  crops,  and  horses; 
she  could  see  Alberto  and  now  she  dared  not  raise 
her  eyes  to  look  at  his  face  in  the  plain  frame. 
Turning  her  back  to  it,  she  lay  down  in  the  bed, 
buried  her  head  among  the  pillows,  and  closed  her 
eyes;  but  instead  of  conciliating  sleep,  there  pre- 
sented themselves  before  her,  pictures  of  her  brief 
domestic  life  with  Alberto;  and,  worst  of  all,  amid 
these  pictures,  the  figure  of  Julio,  of  Julio  sup- 


41 8  MODERN    MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

plicating  and  ill,  of  Julio  wearied  and  weighed 
down  with  cares,  was  not  hateful  to  her. 


"  Here  is  the  fortnight's  pay,  do  me  the  favor 
of  handling  it." 

In  the  handling  the  cashier  came  cut  bankrupt, 
but  could  never  make  up  her  mind  to  tell  Julio  that 
to  meet  necessities  she  was  forced  to  take  in  sew- 
ing, at  night,  while  others  slept  and  her  loneliness 
was  emphasized.  The  little  Julio  kept  her  com- 
pany, studying  his  lessons  or  reading  aloud  one  of 
those  continued  stories,  which  delight  women  and 
children  by  the  complexity  of  their  plot  and  by 
the  happy  exit,  which  ever  favors  virtue.  Some- 
times, the  romantic  history  contrasted  with  her 
own,  so  mean  and  prosaic,  and  a  tear  or  two,  un- 
noticed by  the  reader  absorbed  in  the  story,  fell 
upon  the  white  stuff  of  the  sewing  and  expanded 
in  it  as  in  a  proper  handkerchief.  But  if  Jullto 
learned  of  the  tears,  he  stopped  his  reading  and 
kneeling  before  his  mother  dried  them,  more  by  the 
loving  words  with  which  he  overwhelmed  her, 
than  with  his  coarse  schoolboy's  kerchief. 

*'  Come,  foolish  mama;  why  are  you  crying? 
Don't  you  know  it  isn't  true?  The  whole  book 
is  made  up." 

He  never  added  that  he  knew  well  that  she  was 
not  weeping  for  the  characters  of  the  story,  but 
for  the  neglect  of  her  husband ;  but,  as  her  husband 


FEDERICO   GAMBOA.  4I9 

was  also  his  father,  he  employed  this  pretext  in 
order  not  to  condemn  Julio,  openly  and  aloud,  to 
Carmen.  Thus,  there  happened,  what  was  to  be 
expected,  that  between  Carmen  and  Julito  there 
grew  up  love  in  one  of  its  sublimest  forms,  the 
love  of  mother  and  son,  with  open  caresses,  but 
caresses  the  most  pure,  with  no  touch  of  sin;  and 
ideal  love  which  illumines  our  spirit  and  assures 
us  that  we  would  have  loved  our  mother  so,  had  we 
not  lost  her  too  early. 

Julito's  fifteen  years  spent  in  tenements  and 
public  schools,  had  acquired  for  him  an  undesirable 
stock  of  bad  habits,  of  which  perhaps  the  least 
was  smoking,  inveterate,  demanding  his  with- 
drawal at  the  end  of  each  chapter,  to  the  corridor 
to  smoke  a  cigarette  in  the  open  air.  One  night 
Carmen,  who  knew  not  how  to  show  him  the 
extreme  affection,  which  by  his  treatment  of  her 
he  had  gained,  said,  unexpectedly:  "  If  you  wish 
to  smoke,  you  may  do  it  before  me."  And  the 
boy,  who,  on  the  streets,  at  school,  and  in  the 
neighborhood,  was  a  positive  terror,  could  not 
smoke  near  Carmen,  look  you!  He  could  not;  he 
loved  her  too  much  to  be  willing  to  puff  smoke 
from  mouth  and  nostrils  in  her  presence.  He 
did  not  smoke  secretly,  but  as  before,  in  the  cor- 
ridor, after  each  chapter. 

How  sadly  beautiful  was  the  sight  of  these  two 
in  the  dismantled  dining  room  of  their  miserable 
tenement!     The  immense  house,  the  squalid  quar- 


420  MODERN   MEXICAN    AUTHORS. 

ter,  so  noisy  and  turbulent  during  the  day,  pre- 
sented the  silence  of  the  tomb  in  the  late  hours  of 
the  night.  Carmen  and  Julito,  separated  by  a 
corner  of  the  table  with  its  tattered  cover  of  oil- 
cloth, and  a  tallow  dip,  which  needed  snuffing  every 
little  while;  Julito  greatly  interested  in  his  read- 
ing and  Carmen,  sewing  at  her  fastest,  contemplat- 
ing, with  infinite  love  the  black  and  curly  head  of 
her  son,  when  she  stopped  a  moment  to  thread  her 
needle.  Now  and  again,  the  coughing  of  the 
other  children  came  to  them  from  the  adjoining 
room,  and  Julito  exclaimed:  "Listen  to  my 
brothers." 

"  Yes,  I  hear  them;  poor  little  things." 


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